On the Road to Humanity
by EchoTango
Summary: This is a Vegas AU because John Sheppard in any universe deserves better. “You’re on the wrong side of the gate, John. What are you going to do about it?”
1. Chapter 1

**On the Road to Humanity**

**By echotango**

**Prologue**

He's lying in the desert, bleeding out, and in pain. He's back in Afghanistan but not for long because after all this time he finally could let go.

Holland was gone along with eleven others and it was time to let go. This wasn't about him. It had never been about him. If he didn't know that before he knew that now.

"It's about time you got your head out of your ass, Sheppard," Mitch's voice boomed.

"Yeah, Shep stop beating yourself up, it was a team decision."

Dex stood patiently on Mitch's right, one hand resting lightly on his hip while the other rubbed the stubble on his chin.

"No," he gasped as the pain moved from a booming throb to a sharp stab in his chest "it was my responsibility; I let my relationship with Holland influence my decision."

Whom was he kidding? When the order had come to abandon the mission and return to base, he had been overwhelmed. His feelings had come crashing down on him with a clarity he had never known and he had allowed himself to be persuaded to stay the course, to ignore the order to abort the mission.

Twelve people had died because he couldn't say no, he couldn't hang tough and follow orders. He couldn't obey orders that would have saved twelve lives.

Mitch knelt down beside him and pulled an oxygen mask out of his pack, which he gently secured in place over his nose and mouth. "That is so much bullshit and you know it. You did it because we don't leave one of our own behind. You would have done the same thing for a stranger, Shep," he reminded him gently.

His breaths were shallow and ragged and he fought the insane urge to laugh. He really didn't have the energy.

"You can't take that away from us Shep," Dex told him gently as he pressed down the field dressings that had appeared in his hands onto the still bleeding wounds.

"Can you see them John," Mitch asked him, his face turned to the sky that was suddenly a rich velvety black.

John blinked and the stars bloomed in the darkened sky. He could feel hands, gentle and smooth on his own and then the prick of an IV needle.

"This is bigger than you, you know that now."

"I'm not him," John whispered.

"No but you're more than you've allowed yourself to be John," Dex told him firmly, his fingers brushing John's hair off his forehead.

"Call Ahmed, he's been waiting for you." Mitch told him as he administered a field dose of morphine.

He was cold, so very cold. The desert was like that, blazing heat in the day and startling cold at night once the sun had retreated in a sweep of fiery colours.

"Are you ready John? Are you ready to move on?" they asked him in unison, their voices entwined together and floating on the cooling desert breeze.

"I'm ready," John agreed as he finally closed his eyes.

He was ready for the next step whether that was death or another chance at life. He was ready to move forward because that was the only direction left for him to go.

"I'm ready," he slurred as the pain in his chest flared leaving him cold, numb and shaking in a clean white light.

"We miss you Shep," they told him softly as they lifted him up.

Mitch's snort and Dex's deep chuckle faded away and he remembered taking one last shuddering breath before the white coalesced into a welcome darkness.

**The Emerald City**

McKay had it backwards, he hadn't learned to live with it; it had come to live with him. It lived with him every day and every night, especially the nights; four American soldiers and eight civilians and two survivors.

The Senator and his aide had been forceful and threatening. John had been arrogant and overconfident. He could have resisted, he could have refused to listen.

He had almost made it too. He had reached the extraction point and the stranded med team had scrambled on board but a combination of mechanical failure and enemy fire had brought the Chinook crashing to the ground well within Taliban territory.

Ahmed had tried to come forward, tried to defend John. Tried to explain how the Sentator had pressured and then downright threatened him into attempting the rescue despite the orders to abort. John had found out and through his lawyer had made sure Ahmed's father knew what his son was trying to do.

John hadn't been the only one desperate to reach the med center that day. As pilot in command, he had the final say and the final responsibility. The burden was for him and only him to bear.

He hadn't seen Ahmed after that but John suspected that it was thanks to the influence of Ahmed's father that he had avoided a prison sentence. Despite John's best efforts to distance himself, Ahmed had kept in contact. Once a month, without fail, for the last five years, Ahmed had called him.

"How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

John had tried to avoid the calls but had failed miserably. Once he had been called into the Captains office where he had been ordered to take the call, the captain's personal cell phone held out to him. He had bowed to the inevitable from then on.

"John if you need anything at all call me, OK?"

"Yeah, yeah sure."

Now John found himself doing something he thought he would never do again as long as he lived. He reached out for help.

"Hey, it's John. Yeah, I'm good. Listen, I, uh, kind of got shot and I need someplace quiet, you know until I figure out what to do next."

~*~

It had been two weeks since he had been mortally wounded. He winced as he thought about it. They had done something to him, something alien, he was sure because he should have died. He was certain he had died. At the very least, after only fifteen days, with the kind of injuries he had suffered, he shouldn't have been able to move much less feel as great as he did.

He didn't ask though and instead he walked out of the desert facility on his own two feet and without looking back, with only McKay's business card and a packet of spearmint gum in his pocket.

He flew into JFK and melted away into anonymity.

Ahmed's family was very, very wealthy and with that came power and connections that Ahmed was smart and astute enough to use.

The SGC didn't stand a chance. John Sheppard had disappeared.

~*~

It was early morning and the city of Seattle was bathed in a surreal swirl of mist and fog. They had made their way to the waterfront where John now stood in the middle of the street absolutely stunned, his open mouth and wide eyes completing the dumbfounded look.

Before him stood their restaurant, the black lettering glistening in the morning sunshine – The Blacktail Rooster.

"You did it. I can't believe you actually did it."

John grinned and for the first time in ages, he allowed himself to care and to remember the good parts for once.

His unit, his team had spent a good deal of their down time planning. A restaurant the team would open and operate together.

"Falafels for Mitch," Ahmed told him with a matching smile lighting up his face "and pizza for Dex."

"And Caesar Salad for Sarah and ice cream for me," John added softly as Ahmed unlocked the door.

"That's right, eleven flavours," Ahmed added giving John a speculative look.

"Fifth prime number," John murmured "for the five Blacktails."

"John, I wasn't sure if you would approve."

"Don't Ahmed, once a Blacktail always a Blacktail. You were part of the team. You still are. This is good, we're good."

John struggled for a moment with his composure. Damn it, five years and it still hurt as if it had happened this morning.

They had entered the restaurant when a thought suddenly struck John and he whipped around to study the menu board.

"Oh, you didn't," he groaned, "spaghetti and meatballs for Ahmed."

"Yep, they were voted best in Seattle three years in a row."

"So it's a going concern," John asked more to break the silence that had settled over them than a real need to know.

"It's wildly successful."

They were sitting in the living room in the small studio apartment in which John would be staying. Built above the restaurant it was small but efficient, it's clean lines and neutral colours exhibiting a quiet elegance that John found soothing.

"So know anyone who could use an ex-military, slightly bent detective? There are some people I owe and the sooner I start paying them off the better."

"Yes, about that."

John narrowed his eyes as he looked at Ahmed. Even after all these years, he recognized that tone. The tone that said 'I went ahead and did something and it's all good and anyways you really can't do anything about it because it's a done deal and by the way you won't like it.'

Ahmed had been the team's 'go to guy'. He not only got what they needed but he anticipated not only their needs but also that of the entire base. Be it in the boardroom of the most powerful corporation in the world or in a secondary military base at the edge of the war zone in Afghanistan, Ahmed was a natural hustler.

Ahmed used his intelligence and cunning to benefit those close to him. What set him apart was that if he could this group would include everyone on the planet. Minus the bad guys, of course, which he would crush with a ruthlessness that astonished them all. John used to joke that it was his job to make sure he didn't end up in spandex tights meeting with the League of Justice every second Wednesday.

"I bought your markers."

"You did what?"

John choked down his coffee, and carefully set the cup down on the table in front of him.

"I paid your gambling debts. All of them, including those off the books. Mikey was quite accommodating, actually."

John took a deep breath and willed both his jaw and fists to unclench. He hadn't felt this irrationally angry since the last time he had spoken to his father.

"You can't," John gritted out "I didn't ask for that."

"I didn't do it so you would owe me. It was necessary in order for you to be able to disappear safely. These people would have never given up, John. You really did pick some winners," he added sadly.

John deflated, the anger draining out of him leaving him exhausted and nursing the beginnings of a big headache.

"Besides you'll have it paid off within the year."

"And how am I going to accomplish that?"

"Well, first of all you will give it up."

It was a statement of fact, not a demand and John nodded.

He had already made that decision, had already figured it out. No more gambling, no more drinking. He wasn't sure what would hold back the nights but he would find something.

He got up from the couch, rummaged through his duffle bag, and pulled out a small box. Opening it up, he retrieved the bottle of thirty-year-old scotch and the pack of playing cards. Looking around the room he finally placed them on one of the shelves built into the wall next to him, the focal point of the living room area.

"They'll remind me where I've been and where I want to go."

"I want you to manage the restaurant," Ahmed blurted out.

"Ahmed, I know nothing about running a restaurant."

"John you were a Major in the United States Military, the definition of middle management which everyone is screaming for, by the way, especially the military. They can't get enough Majors. Too bad they threw away a perfectly good one."

John looked doubtful.

"I'll teach you the specifics you need to know."

"I have my own unique style of management as you may recall. It'll have to be done my way."

"Oh, I remember and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I still hate paperwork."

"Jenna will be your assistant. She already does most of that for me. So you'll do it?"

"Oh, God, I can't believe I'm even considering this. Yeah, I'll give it a shot."

John flopped down further into the couch. He would have to start running again. It had always provided a welcome distraction.

Ahmed stood for a full minute an odd expression on his face. A brilliant smile tinged with a hint of sadness and regret.

"Oh, before I forget, here's your new I.D."

John studied the documents Ahmed handed him. Passport, driver's license, social security number, birth certificate even a pilot's license. They were very good forgeries, very good.

"Jason Smith?" John asked his eyebrows rising into his hairline.

"Yeah, this way you keep your initials and don't look at me like that, Smith is the most common surname in the United States."

John could feel his emotions surfacing again, the unexpected name change forcing them to the forefront. Reminding him of the only other time he considered changing his name. It was as if he had been dead, cold and numb for the last five years and was just now thawing out.

McKay's voice echoed across his consciousness.

"I know _everything_ about you. You've never been married."

John Holland-Sheppard. Sarah Holland-Sheppard. Their fifth wedding anniversary would have been coming up next week.

"Ahmed, do you believe in destiny?"

Three times now he should have died. Three times, he had somehow cheated death. Once in the crash in Afghanistan, once when the sidearm his father had given him before he left him alone with a bottle of scotch had jammed, and once when a dangerous alien creature had shot the hell out of him and his car.

Ahmed looked at his friend.

"The John Sheppard I know chooses his own destiny. I believe we all have that choice."

The lone wraith's voice twisted through his memories.

"There must be some other reason for your existence. I know the future. I'll show you your destiny…John Sheppard."

"John, what is it?"

Ahmed's voice broke through his reverie, the edge of concern he heard telling him that he had called more than a few times.

"You know what? You are absolutely right and it's time I made those choices." John told his friend, after letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Wrong Side of the Gate**

The Chinook slid to a halt, the screeching and crackling noises not quite drowning out the quiet moans coming from the back. The white light swirled around him and they spoke to him as they went past.

"Thanks, for trying Major, I appreciate it."

"Take care of yourself."

"Hey, at least you gave us a fighting chance."

"Come on Major, do any of us ever see it coming?"

One by one, they slipped by him into the ribbon of light, each with a word of thanks or encouragement until only three of them were left.

Mitch and Dex came together, leaving Sarah leaning up against the broken shell of the downed chopper.

"We'll see you on the other side Shep. Take care, buddy."

"John?"

"Sarah, I'm so sorry."

She smiled in that indulgent way she had when he was being particularly obtuse.

"Don't be, John, we all have choices to make, a destiny to pursue. They need you," she told him her voice low and husky.

She leaned down and kissed him gently, chastely, her breath, warm and alive, sending shudders through his body.

"You're on the wrong side of the gate, John. What are you going to do about it?"

She looked down at him, reaching over and smoothing away the tears running down his face.

"You're a good man, don't ever forget that. So long John."

He awoke with a start, but for the first time he wasn't drowning is a sea of black despair. He had become accustomed to the nightmares that plagued him most nights. This was the first time he had dreamed.

The first time he had dreamed in vivid colour and bright light. The first time he had wept, the tears flowing unhindered down his face, dampening his pillow.

He hadn't felt anything when he had woken up and discovered he had survived the crash nor anytime during or after his court marshal. There were no tears as they lowered Sarah's coffin into the ground, nor when either Mitch or Dex were laid to rest. There was nothing left in him, especially not tears, when Dave had forced him to reveal how he had come into possession of his father's sidearm.

Once the tears and the sobbing had stopped, he felt light and if not free, at least a part of him felt alive again. There would always be that gaping hole that would need to be kept safely locked down.

The other Sheppard had ended up in Atlantis and had eventually saved the world several times over. Sarah was right; he was on the wrong side of the gate. He was needed; he had a job to do. All he had to do was find a way.

~*~

That morning John had returned home sweaty and on slightly rubbery legs. It had been a while since he had long stretches of sandy beach on which to run. It reminded him of his South California days enough to leave a tight band across his chest that had loosened as he breathed in the familiar salty air.

The Rooster sat right on the farthest end of Alki Avenue in West Seattle, a relatively short run from Alki point and the beach. John had been skeptical at first, as he had surveyed the weekend crowds pouring onto the beach about it's suitability as a hideout.

After a night listening to the waves splash against the boardwalk, he had decided that there was a lot to be said about hiding in plain sight and there certainly was safety in numbers. He could easily get lost in the crowd here.

Sarah had joined him on the paved walkway when he had stopped to rest and watch the sunrise. Dressed in a pale pink sweat suit she had sat down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. She smelled like lilacs and fresh linen and the soft curls of her hair tickled his neck. He had been the one to break the silence.

"Maybe I should talk to the SGC. Maybe there's something I could do, something I could offer that would get me there."

"Is that what you want?"

"No."

"You'd hate it."

"You're most probably right but how else am I going to get there."

"There's more than one way to skin a cat, John."

"I'm more a dog person myself."

"You need to find another way that doesn't involve the SGC."

"Hey maybe Ahmed's father would invest in building a spaceship."

"John just remember that when one door closes another opens."

"My, aren't we filled with clichés today."

"You'll find a way John, I have faith in you," Sarah told him as she gently kissed his forehead.

After taking a long, well deserved shower, John decided that he would give it a rest. The more he thought about it, the less likely that a solution would present itself.

Ahmed was supposed to introduce him to the staff later in the afternoon but he thought he would sneak in and check out the lunch crowd. For now, a decent falafel and a scoop of chocolate chip mint ice cream was what he needed.

He couldn't see anything but he knew something was wrong the second he stepped through the door. It was too quiet and the few customers that were there this early wouldn't make eye contact with him. All except for the well dressed guy leaning lazily up against the counter.

Dressed in a plain black t-shirt and expensive designer jeans he exuded an air of confidence and superiority. John knew the type because in his previous life he used to be one of them.

"Can I help you," he asked keeping himself loose and in a neutral non-aggressive stance.

"Nah, I'm just waiting for my friend to finish talking to his girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend," snarled the woman behind the counter "and Jesse' through talking."

She stood rigidly, her hands clenched tightly by her side. John could now see the other man in the kitchen prep area and he was crowding a young woman into the corner.

"The answer's no, Cory and I'm not saying it again."

A few months ago, John would have turned away but this time he didn't think, he just moved. He had the man up against the wall in a headlock, his arm twisted painfully up against his back before the two even knew he was there.

"She said no Cory, need me to say it again?"

"Let go, we were just talking."

"From what I heard she's through talking, isn't that right Jesse?"

The woman looked at him, wide-eyed and obviously scared and uncertain. "I just want him to leave me alone and Cory," she continued her voice getting louder, braver; "you can't be coming to bother me at work anymore."

"Do you understand that Cory? I don't want to see you coming around here again and if I hear you've been bothering Jesse we'll just have to continue our little chat," John told him as he pressed the man into the wall just a little bit harder before he let him go.

"Yeah, I get it," he told John with a venomous glare "so long bitch, you'll never know what you're missing."

John ignored the squeals of delight as he introduced himself. He was too busy staring at the back entrance that Cory and his friend had used to make their very hasty retreat. An alternate escape route, a back door; that was it, he had his solution.

He knew what to do. He had to go back to the beginning. Back to the clues that had led to the discovery of the stargate in the first place. The ancients had fled to Earth to escape a deadly enemy and then from what McKay had implied faced other bad guys, other challenges.

The Ancients weren't stupid, they had to have had a back door, an alternate escape route, another stargate and John Sheppard was going to find it.

~*~

The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that he was missing something.

"If you fail to co-operate, I have the power to ruin your life."

Pretty heavy handed considering he had simply refused to sign the 300-page non-disclosure document. They had access to everything he had on the case including all the case files, reports and his personal notes both electronic and hardcopy. They had stripped him clean.

They knew more about the case then he did.

McKay had told him the truth anyways. Ultimately, McKay had gone out on a limb and given him the final piece that had fit together in his mind and enabled him to find the wraith.

The information McKay had at his fingertips was the result of a long, careful and thorough investigation that couldn't have possibly been put together in the time span since the expedition members were recalled to Earth to deal with the lone Wraith.

John knew this because if he had been so inclined he was quite capable of gathering the type of Intel the SCG had on him. When he wanted it, John was very good at what he did. Solving the tough ones was the reason they kept him. It was the reason why his quarterly reviews passed muster.

John screwed up the everyday stuff but when he chose to focus on a particular case, his boss knew that if it were possible John would find the answers. John's solve rate for the tough nuts was impressively high.

None of this was actually in the reviews. You had to know enough to read between the lines. Therefore, he wasn't wanted for his problem solving skills. Nor did they want him for his cooperation with a case from which they had completely dismissed him.

What weren't they telling him?

It was something important enough to justify the use of whatever alien device or treatment that had healed him. He was alive. John was aware that nothing on Earth could have saved him that day.

Instinct told him there was something else going on. He had something that they wanted. It was something valuable enough to risk implanting a tracker in his body.

"What do you want me to say?"

"For now, nothing."

It had been somewhat scary to find out that not only did Ahmed know what a subcutaneous transmitter was but also how to detect one and disable it, satellite locator, my ass.

John's transmitter was imbedded in the scar tissue on his left leg. A stray bullet had grazed him a couple of years ago. Not a serious wound just enough to bleed like crazy and put him in the hospital for a couple of days leaving a small crescent shaped scar on his inner thigh.

"We know where to find you."

It looked like they had known where to find him for at least the last two years.

~*~

From: M R McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, April 4, 2007, 3:04am

To: 

Subject: Missed Appointment

You missed your weekly checkup. Check your voicemail. Keller is pissed. –RM

From: M R McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, April 11, 2007, 12:17am

To: 

Subject: Idiot

In what universe is flying into JFK considered remotely similar to go home, take it easy and rest.

-RM

From: M R McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, April 18, 2007, 3:45pm

To: 

Subject: Thanks a lot.

Now Keller is really pissed. Do you have any idea what it means to piss off the CMO. Voodoo practitioner that she is, she has access to the biggest needles and she's not afraid to use them. You really need to get checked out, make sure everything worked out as expected.

-RM

From: M R McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007, 10:30pm

To: 

Subject: You have got to be kidding me.

Where are you, you jackass?

Is this some kind of retribution? Is it your juvenile way of sticking it to the man? Seriously, the bad guys here make our friend look like Mary Poppins phoning home.

If you want, Keller can meet you privately. No one here would need to know. -RM

From: M Rodney McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, May 2, 2007, 2:39am

To: 

Subject: Stupid Flyboy

OK, OK, OKAY!!!!! I get it. You're smarter than you look. Maybe I don't know everything. -RM

Bingo.

From: John Sheppard [mail to: ]

Sent: Thursday, May 9, 2007, 6:15am.

To: .gov

Subject: Re: Stupid Flyboy

Maybe you do know _everything_ about Detective (ex Major) John Sheppard but you don't know anything about _me_. -JS

John had expected an immediate cyber attack on the SGC's part in an attempt to track him down that had not materialized. If they had, they wouldn't have succeeded. The security protocols and encryption program that he and Ahmed had developed were, if not unbreakable, close to it and if a breach had happened, they would have had enough notice to be long gone.

John had done a little more digging and it would seem the SGC had backed down. Uh, John was curious and settled down to wait it out.

He didn't have to wait long.

From: M Rodney McKay [mail to: .gov]

Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007, 2:39am

To: 

Subject: Quid Pro Quo

I have double doctorates in astrophysics and engineering and undergraduate degrees in chemistry, mathematics and French (cute little blond, need I say more). I also am the proud recipient of red seal certificates in machining and tool and die making thanks to stupid union rules that wouldn't let me on the shop floor otherwise. (Hah, so there, Mr. Wardinski) and yet I can't figure out how to make small talk at the company Christmas party.

I have a wife who hates me and will definitely not be renewing our ten-year contract. Ten-year contract, that says it all, doesn't it.

I've been laid far fewer times in the last five years than I want to admit (should've written into the above contract) and two of those times aliens made us do it.

I'm allergic to just about everything and anything citrus or bee sting related will kill me.

I can count the number of friends (read people who can stand me) I have on one hand and I accidentally killed one of those.

If I have any soul, it is sharp and creatively insignificant, just ask Mr. Sherman and he'll confirm that for you.

In addition, I lied; my team is nothing like the other Sheppard's. My team consists of three military grunts who tolerate my presence because, hello, smartest man in two galaxies.

There, now we're even, are you happy? –RM

P.S. I'm pretty sure they were best friends. –RM

P.S.S. You can trust O'Neill. –RM

Uh, that was interesting. No, he was not happy but not still drowning in a black sea of grief and self-loathing, either. He wondered briefly in what place he would have been if he had not been assigned the wraith murder case. He wondered how much of his current life he owed to one Dr McKay.

~*~

John's life had settled into a surprisingly comfortable routine.

With Ahmed's encouragement, he had restructured the operation of the restaurant to reflect his own vision. He created teams and expanded the take out business to include a full service restaurant that had become one of the hottest date spots in the city.

The unused storage space on the second level was converted to office space for Blacktail Enterprises where Ahmed could be found most mornings sporting a satisfied smile and a tiny cup of the thick and potent espresso he favoured.

Much to his surprise the encryption program he and Ahmed developed, to thwart the SGC had made the new company a tidy sum.

After a couple of months of intense research, his attempts to track down earth's second stargate all ended in frustration. He just didn't have enough information. He needed to talk to McKay. He needed to talk to the man and maybe he would pick up enough clues to point him in the right direction without revealing his agenda to the SGC. At least that's what he told himself.

His desire to meet with McKay had nothing to do with the fact that he had not received any further emails from him in the last two months. His call to the SGC and subsequent unproductive conversation with Colonel O'Neill had nothing to do with the subtle and yet constant knot of worry in his chest.

A thin layer of tension that was anything but dissipated by the news, reluctantly imparted by O'Neill, that McKay was due to arrive in Colorado for a month's worth of medical leave. McKay was on _medical leave for a whole month._ Just what had the man done to himself?

Therefore, it was with some relief that John made the decision to travel to Colorado Springs to interview candidates to fulfill Blacktail Enterprises security requirements himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Real McKay**

He began having second thoughts when the cat started to freak him out.

The neighbour had run into him as she was returning to her apartment, a bag of groceries in one hand and a basket of clean laundry leaning against her hip. If she noticed that he didn't have a key to McKay's apartment she didn't say anything apparently entirely too relieved to see someone, anyone.

"Oh, thank goodness, Dr McKay was supposed to have been here yesterday and my sister is picking me up in, oh shit, twenty minutes."

She stopped talking and eyed him suspiciously as he slipped the pick he had used to open the door into his pocket and gave her his best, 'who me?' Smile. It worked most of the time and today was not going to be one of the exceptions.

"Hi, I'm John. McKay's not expecting me. I thought I'd surprise him," he told her as he nodded towards the supplies he had brought with him.

Apparently satisfied she hurried down to the end of the hall. John was going to have to speak to McKay regarding security or the total lack thereof.

"I'll get Ivan," she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the apartment next door.

John had just enough time to set down his bags and boxes inside and was about to close the door when the neighbour, Marla, he found out later, burst in with a huff, a smallish duffle bag hanging off her shoulders and the biggest, shaggy looking house cat John had ever seen in his life.

"Ivan, sweetie, this is John. He's going to take care of you until your daddy comes home," she crooned.

John staggered a little, surprised at the weight, when Marla thrust the animal into his arms. For a moment, it sprawled lazily, its yellow green eyes studying John intently.

"Wow, what do you feed this thing, mini bricks?" John exclaimed.

Marla laughed her voice a little lower and huskier than before. Probably coming down with a cold John decided.

"They are a lot heavier than they look."

"I thought McKay was allergic to everything?" he asked her while he tried to balance in his arms a cat that was determined to lick his way across John's face and neck "and what do you mean by 'they'?"

He couldn't help it. All he could think about was that the cat was really an alien entity that McKay had somehow managed to smuggle through the stargate. It wasn't behaving anything like the cats he had known before. It was acting more like his first and only dog, Klondike, than like any of the cool and aloof cats he had interacted with in the past.

Marla looked at him a little funny. "Dr McKay didn't tell you about Ivan," she asked him in a slightly sharp tone.

"Nah, not yet, pseudo wife, multiple degrees, insane co-workers, failed relationships, deadly allergies," he told her smoothly…ultra top secret multinational job fighting bat shit crazy alien vampires in a galaxy far, far away. This last part he didn't say aloud.

She stepped in close and in a low, sultry, smoky voice she whispered, "They're a hypoallergenic breed. Dr McKay brought him home from Siberia himself. He's a Siberian forest cat and he apparently followed him home one day. It was love at first sight. Do you believe in love at first sight, John?"

Uh, apparently she was not coming down with a cold after all. Fortunately, he was saved by the intercom buzzing.

"Oh, crap, that's my sister. I told her I might be here. Be right down," she shouted into the intercom.

She was already out the door when she remembered him and turned around. "Tell Dr McKay I'll be at my sister's over the weekend but that he can reach me on my cell if it's an emergency. Bye sweetie, see you later."

The last, thank god, was directed to the cat.

Heavily boned and barrel chested Ivan had more than a passing resemblance to a small bull dog and the way he sat, tail sweeping the floor, head cocked with a playful gleam in his eyes, John had the absurd longing to play fetch.

It's just a damn cat, John told himself, a sentiment he found himself repeating over the next few hours as he waited for McKay to arrive. John's intention had been to scour McKay's apartment for clues and then after he had assured himself that the man was OK, subtly question the scientist over dinner. Instead, he found himself playing with the damn cat.

Although he was relatively quiet Ivan expressed himself using a variety of mew, thrills and chirps and of course by purring; a lot of deep throated, very loud purring. It reminded John of a vintage Jaguar he had the rare opportunity to drive. The engine had sounded a lot like Ivan did when John was scratching him behind the ears.

Ivan was intrigued by all the toys John found in a box under the kitchen sink and he played with just about anything, including fetching a small leather ball John would casually lob into the living area.

Having situated Ivan on a stool pulled up to the kitchen counter so he could see what he was doing John began preparing dinner. The Rooster's famous spaghetti and meatballs and Caesar salad, all made from scratch.

John was not much of a cook but after the ten thousand plus take out orders the Rooster had prepared for super bowl Sunday some things John would never forget how to make.

He had been on meatball making duty for a better part of the week leading up to the game and had crawled into bed early Monday morning exhausted after finally pronouncing the Rooster's kitchen clean and ready to take on a new mission. Everybody had gotten super bowl Monday off.

Ivan's sharp chirp alerted John to the skillet of onions that were in danger of burning and not for the first time he had to squelch the urge to call O'Neil and demand he tell him on which planet Ivan had really been born.

Ivan's body language was John's warning that McKay had finally come home. Geez, John thought, exactly when had he learned how to read cat body language and would it translate to earth born cats.

"Hey brat, what are you doing here?" McKay sounded tired and worn out.

John stiffened, the tension of the past few months creeping back into his body. What was he doing here and how was he going to explain it to McKay? He should have just ransacked the place and left.

He wasn't sure just why he cared; it had become an unfamiliar feeling. John had been an asshole to the people around him for so long that he couldn't quite understand why he cared now. He had eventually concluded that if he were going down he would drag down as many as he could with him because that's just the kind of bastard he was.

He had used people but for some reason something had broken open inside him while he was lying in the desert looking up at the sky, his blood seeping into the sand. Suddenly he wanted more, he wanted out of the stinking hole into which he had fallen.

John knew something was up when Ivan's purr came to an abrupt stop. Still his eyes widened a little as McKay carefully rounded the corner, a 9mil Beretta firm in his hand, the barrel aimed straight at John's chest.

"Detective Sheppard, what are you doing here?"

"You really shouldn't pull out a weapon unless you intend on using it," John drawled forcing his body to stay relaxed.

He didn't want to spook the man. He looked as exhausted and beaten as he had sounded and even if the extensive bruising and the tensor wrap on his left arm didn't tell him the lines in his face spoke of the pain McKay was undoubtedly feeling.

"What makes you think I won't use it, Detective? You broke into my home and…you're cooking? What is that, meatballs? You made meatballs, wait, never mind."

The sidearm had wavered but McKay quickly recovered.

"I ask you again, what makes you think I won't shoot you, Detective."

"Because the safety's still on and it's John."

McKay slumped and swayed on his feet, the Beretta hanging loosely at his side. John took it, placed it gently on the kitchen table, and helped McKay sit down.

"John, yeah right and I'm…"

"Meredith," John interjected quickly, knowing that it was not what McKay was about to say.

John had resorted to hacking into Canadian government records to find out McKay's given name as it otherwise appeared to be a closely guarded secret. McKay always signed his name M Rodney McKay and even his marriage certificate had not revealed his full name.

"It's an interesting name, Dr McKay, unusual but not strange. It suits you."

John felt the beginnings of a blush creep up into his face. God, what was the matter with him. McKay was studying him intently not unlike Ivan had earlier but with sharp blue eyes that spoke of the brilliance beneath.

"Jeannie, uhm, my sister, calls me Mer."

"Mer, I like that. Do you like Caesar Salad, Mer?" John asked the diminutive rolling easily off his tongue.

"Caesar salad! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Hey, take it easy, no lemon juice, no citrus of any kind, just a splash of white balsamic vinegar for acidity. I didn't forget, Mer."

John wondered how many times he could fit the name into casual conversation before McKay called him on it.

Over dinner and a single glass of red wine, one for John because it was all he allowed himself and only in a social setting and only one for McKay because he was still on pain meds.

The Genii had not only been able to capture McKay but they had managed to keep him for the better part of two months.

"If they knew who had taken you, why'd it take so long to break you out McKay?" John didn't even try to hide his anger and frustration from the other man.

"They couldn't find me. Colonel Sumner may be a good marine but he's definitely lacking on the diplomacy front. Our trading partners are just that. They trade with us because it's advantageous for them to do so and all the IOA cares about is power and weapons potential. We don't have many friends in Pegasus."

Rodney snorted in self-derision and John looked at him inquisitively. "You know what's funny? Arrogant, egotistical self-serving bastards don't usually care about making friends."

"Don't put yourself down, Mer," John snapped, maybe a bit too harshly "there's more to you than that, I'm sure. Anyone who can't eventually see that isn't worth being friends with."

"What do you know about it? You don't know me."

"Instinct tells me I'm right and my gut is never wrong. Besides a two dimensional son of a bitch wouldn't have a cat like Ivan."

Rodney toyed with the remainder of his dinner but John could see the corners of his mouth slowly curl up. "He is something else, isn't he?"

John resisted the urge to blurt out that he had figured out Ivan's alien status. Just in case. He wouldn't want McKay to question his sanity.

"So you escaped on your own?"

John kept his voice calm and quiet because he could see how twitchy and jumpy Rodney still was and suspected that the man was suffering from more than a few symptoms of PTSD.

"Not exactly, Radek went to see Teyla. She's the leader of the Athosian people and generally they won't have anything to do with us but you see Radek had met the other Teyla and well she eventually agreed to help. She's the one who found me and brought me home. I helped, of course. "

"Of course," John agreed with a tiny smile of encouragement "So, Teyla was part of Team Sheppard?"

"Yes, you, me Teyla and another Pegasus native, Ronon completed the team."

"I assume that Colonel Sumner is not as receptive to the idea of a local on the lead team."

"That assumption is entirely correct. Not only does Colonel Sumner not allow natives on any of the off world teams but he barely tolerates the civilian scientists. No one not from Earth is allowed on Atlantis, period."

"I thought the Atlantis expedition's mandate was discovery and exploration."

"That was before we ran into the Wraith."

"So what changes would you make, Mer?"

They spent the rest of the evening discussing the logistics of exploring another galaxy until Rodney began to run out of steam.

~*~

That night John was woken up by cries of anguish which for once were not his own. He quickly went to Rodney's bedroom and slipped beneath the covers and got as close as he could, his chest to McKay's back. Careful not to restrict his movements John held him lightly in his arms while he whispered softly in the darkness.

"Shh, it's alright, you're safe now. Shh, it's OK, I've got you Mer."

Eventually the shuddering and whimpering stopped and Rodney slipped into what John hoped was a restful sleep.

Jenny had done the same thing for him. Jenny was Sarah's cousin and best friend and she had showed up at his door shortly after he had arrived stateside. John, of course, wanted nothing to do with her but Jenny was stubborn and had persevered, going so far as to move into his spare bedroom.

She had gotten him through the worst of the nights and some of the really bad days. She had warned him against going home and was the one Dave called to come and get him. She had gotten him through that as well.

He suspected that McKay needed someone like Jenny as badly as John had and was grateful not only for the opportunity but that he had healed enough himself to pass on Jenny's brand of compassion and encouragement.

~ * ~

If Rodney was impressed with the spaghetti and meatballs John had made he was equally appreciative of the breakfast that was waiting for him when he got up. Having consumed French toast, bacon, sausage, and an assortment of non-citrus fruit and copious amounts of coffee Rodney was looking much better.

His face fell somewhat when John announced that they had a lot of work to do during his leave.

"What do you mean, apart from physiotherapy twice a week I've been ordered to stand down."

John gave him a pointed look. "Mer," he drawled stretching the word out to two syllables.

"OK, fine. I have two weeks of medical leave left and after that a month's worth of vacation I've been ordered to take. Use it or lose it."

He didn't add that he had been quite willing to lose it but O'Neil hadn't given him that option.

"Right, first stop the firing range."

"What? No, I know how to handle a firearm."

"Mer, you came at me with a sidearm with the safety still on and, I might add, a nearly empty clip."

"Colonel Sumner believes it's a waste of time to train the civilians. He's probably right."

John frowned. That attitude was so terribly wrong he didn't know where to begin to explain it.

"Mer, sure it's the military's job to protect you but you should be given the tools you need to defend yourself until help arrives. Like it or not you're all in this together and some day you may find it necessary to fight side by side."

Rodney stared at him for a long moment.

"Come back with me," Rodney finally said, his voice cracking. "I'm sure the IOA would take you on as a civilian consultant."

"I can't do that."

"Why not, you're not still mad about the Vegas murder case, are you."

The flash of irritation in John's eyes, though brief, did indicate that a certain amount of animosity lingered.

"That's not it. I just – it'll never happen. I'll never again be put into the position where someone can order me to leave one of my own behind."

~*~

Target practice went much more smoothly once John stopped trying to correct Rodney's technique. "Uh, you didn't miss the target even once this time. Try it again but this time; try not to anticipate the recoil."

John also showed him how to clean his sidearm and watch for signs of wear.

"You're a born engineer, no reason that you can't make the replacement parts you need. If you haven't already I'd also look into making your own ordinance. You never know when you might get cut off again."

"Yes, yes, all very good recommendations that will undoubtedly fall on deaf ears."

John couldn't really argue with that.

John winced as Rodney once again stepped up to fire down the range. His stance was all wrong and the grip he had on the Beretta made John just a little bit nervous but seeing as how he only had one hand to work with it would have to do.

John was completely flummoxed as to how Rodney managed to not only hit the target but also improve his aim with each clip that he emptied. Soon John felt Rodney was comfortable enough for him to begin slowly teaching him proper technique. Rodney's unique method would hamper him in the long term and it was always best to introduce good habits right from the beginning.

"Uh, I honestly can't explain it because really there is no explanation for how you're doing this but you're turning out to be pretty good. Tell me again why you received no firearm training?"

"It was judged a waste of time," Rodney told him with a grin.

John could tell by the expression on his face that someone was going to be eating Pegasus crow very soon.

Pleased with Rodney's progress John moved over to do some practice rounds himself. He was overdue.

In his time in homicide, he had seen everything. Certainly, after tracking down an alien killer he was entitled to that opinion. A few men and one woman that he had come to know he felt needed killing. He hadn't stepped over that line. He couldn't decide if that was because he wouldn't go that low or because he didn't care enough.

As he squeezed back on the trigger, firing one shot after another in quick succession he thought of the one man who brought him the closest to that line. He was startled when Rodney gently pushed his arm down. He blinked, his mind coming into focus again and he looked at the paper target. A single black hole, its edges a little ragged, rested neatly in the center of the heart shape printed on the paper target.

"You're out of rounds, you can stop now."

Rodney stood beside him, his hand still resting on his arm, a puzzled and worried expression on his face.

"Who were you seeing, John?"

John stiffened but Rodney didn't back away, his piercing blue eyes meeting his gaze. "My father," John finally managed to croak out. He didn't care so it shouldn't be so hard to say, should it.

"I don't know where this is all going, or how far you've gone," Rodney told him his hand waving to encompass the target range "but I'm assuming it's a good thing. I'm telling you right now that there's no going back, only forward. I won't let you go back John. Take that as a promise or a threat, however you like. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

John nodded, his throat suddenly too dry to speak.

"Good. God, I'm starving. Since you cooked dinner and breakfast, I'm buying lunch. Come on I know this great little Greek restaurant."

~*~

The restaurant was stuck between an auto parts store and a Laundromat in a nondescript strip mall. The plain somewhat run down exterior was matched by the equally utilitarian interior. However, it was clean and well organized and more to the point very, very busy even given the odd time of day.

"They have the best soulvaki on a pita and well, I've actually dreamt about their bacon, cheese burger platter," Rodney told him with a wistful sigh.

John grinned, knowing exactly how that could be. No matter where he was stationed, it seemed nobody could do pizza right. John didn't have a chance to say anything, though because just then he was practically bowled over by an Amazon of a woman who immediately engulfed Rodney in a bear hug; his face pressed into her ample bosom or was that the other way around?

"Dr. McKay, it is so good to see you," she exclaimed kissing him on both cheeks before looking at him critically

"You have been hurt."

"I'm fine, Mrs. Theofilopoulos."

"Please Dr McKay, it's Alexia. Do we need to go through this again?"

"Uh, no, I guess not."

John smirked at bit at the sight of Rodney McKay shuffling his feet, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. John wondered what the story was here.

"John Sheppard," John said, stepping forward to extend his hand "He's not all the way there but he will be, I promise you that."

Alexia studied him a moment before she shook his hand and pulled him into an equally enthusiastic hug complete with a kiss on each cheek. Now it was John's turn to be flustered. He usually had no problem keeping people well within his comfort zone, which was never this close.

Neither one of them had time to say any more as they were suddenly both swept away on a tide of hugs, kisses and rapid fire Greek and ushered into an obviously private dining room.

Two hours later and having sampled what had to have been one of everything on the menu John could barely move enough to spoon sugar into his tiny cup of frothy Greek coffee.

"So, Mer, tell me, just how are you related to the Theofilopoulos'"

"You don't know the story?"

Another tall, amply endowed woman had sat down next to John, though she restrained herself from the hug and kiss routine and simply studied him with an intense, almost feral gaze.

"Callidora," Rodney growled warily.

"Rodney," the woman replied in amusement.

"Callidora is a lawyer," Rodney said to John in a tone that implied that this should explain everything.

"Seven years ago a developer was poised to demolish this entire block," Callidora told John, ignoring Rodney's attempt to redirect her attention "and Rodney stopped him and saved the restaurant."

"Poor Mr. Sullivan."

Callidora sighed and turned her head, her teeth worrying her lips, biting back an emotion John couldn't quite place.

"What? What are you talking about? Sullivan was a creepy, son of a bitch, slime ball that had no problem throwing good, hard working people out on the streets. Why that pug nosed, shit faced, monkey turd deserved everything he got. If I could I…oh."

Rodney stopped when Callidora could no longer contain herself and broke out in a loud, shrill laugh.

"Damn, McKay, I really missed you."

"Well, it's been a good investment," Rodney stated with that tone that John had learned was his 'mulish' voice.

"Yes, it has."

"You bought the restaurant?" John asked in surprise.

This was another layer to Rodney that John was sure was kept well hidden.

"He bought the whole strip mall, to keep it safe," Callidora informed him before turning her attention to John.

"So, John, how long are you going to be in town?"

"He's with me," Rodney blurted out "I mean he's in town as long as I am, I mean. Uh? When are you leaving?"

John was careful to keep his expression neutral though it was hard when he was looking into the most expressive blue eyes he had ever known. Rodney may be able to keep secrets and confidential information but his emotions were on display for anyone who bothered to look close enough.

John had already guessed that Rodney's bristling shell kept most people from getting in that close.

Right now Rodney was expectant and hopeful.

"I'll be in town until Rodney has to return to work."

"Great, I'll see you both tomorrow."

"What? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, I can't do this every day," Rodney hissed in despair.

It was then that John noticed that the entire family had stepped back as if Callidora had extended a force field around them.

"Mamma?"

Alexia stepped forward and John and Rodney watched in fascination as the two women began to argue, hands waving and gesticulating in counterpoint to a rich guttural Greek dialect.

"Fine," Alexia finally huffed "reasonable portions and mostly healthy food."

"And…" prompted Callidora.

"…and only one family member to serve in the public dining room."

"And…"

Alexia hesitated and crossed her arms over her chest.

"And…"

"I will not expect you everyday as you do have a life of your own."

John hid his smile as the woman reluctantly spit out the words.

"But we will have a feast on your last day, yes?"

"Sure," Rodney replied doubtfully.

"We'll do our best, Mrs. Theofilopoulos," John replied for both of them.

"Please call me Alexia."

Before he knew it both John and Rodney were passed through another round of enthusiastic hugs and kisses before they were allowed to exit the restaurant.

"Wow that was something else. I felt like we were in the cast of 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

John looked at him curiously.

"Really? You've never even heard of it?"

"Well, duh? Why would I?"

"Oh, we are so stopping at the video store on the way home but first we're going to work on your awareness skills. See if you can spot the airman that's been tailing us."

Rodney stopped walking and turned to face him, clearly surprised.

"Are you sure? O'Neil promised me that he'd leave you alone."

At least now John knew why the SGC had backed off. Rodney had asked them to.

"I'm sure and the tail is on you. You're an important man, Mer and I'd, you know, would have done the same thing to keep you safe."

Now it was John's turn to flush pink with embarrassment.

They watched movies for the rest of the day and into the night until Rodney tipped over and started to drool on John's shoulders.

They both sported wiry grins through the entire length of 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding.'

They spent the evenings of Rodney's medical leave watching videos and ordering in pizza and Chinese food when they tired of the Greek leftovers that Alexia always pressed them to take.

John introduced Rodney to The English Patient, The Piano and Amalie.

"You are such a girl," Rodney pronounced when they had finished the last of John's selections.

Rodney brought home Star Wars, Star Trek and episodes of Dr Who and Battleship Galactica.

Later Rodney picks out Shrek probably just to annoy John and at first he really is a little annoyed but when he hears Rodney laugh for the first time he supposedly retaliates by selecting other animated movies.

John had always enjoyed the sophistication of Disney's Fantasia and still can't help but chuckle every time he sees the dancing hippos especially since he once actually hallucinated about hippos dancing around his bed. At the time being loopy on pain meds and stuck in an infirmary bed the hippos had been a welcome distraction.

Rodney, on the other hand, had grown quieter as the movie played on and had gone to bed early. John had half expected to be woken up by cries of terror so was surprised when he was awoken by shouts of anger.

Once again John found himself slipping under the covers to rub Rodney's back and arms. Rodney responded most to a light touch and a quiet voice but this time, though John could feel the tension gradually ease away, he could tell that the other man had not fallen back asleep as he had before.

"I used to play piano. I quit when I was twelve."

"What happened?"

"I had the technical skills but I was lacking the necessary creativity."

"That was Mr. Sherman, wasn't it?"

John remembered the last email he had received and knew that this was an old but unhealed wound.

"Yes," Rodney replied in a quiet, broken voice.

John sighed and he could feel the hair on the back of Rodney's head shift.

"Mer, you were only twelve. Most twelve year olds don't have the life experience to play like that."

"Why do you care?"

He could have just brushed him off with a glib remark or a snarky comment but in the stillness of the night John could do no less than tell the truth.

"I don't know, Mer, I really don't. Can you just let me?"

"Yeah, OK."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Little Astrophysicist Who Could**

John waited until Rodney was snoring softly before getting up and padding into the living room. He felt restless and something itched at the back of his mind as if he had forgotten to do something or that he was missing something important. Maybe it was just the stress of trying to do everything in one day. He had postponed the interviews he had scheduled to take what in effect was a vacation.

Rodney's medical leave was almost over and he was planning on spending most of the day at the Cheyenne Mountain complex getting his last check up and tying up a few loose ends before going on his month of enforced vacation.

John had plans for Rodney's vacation time and he chuckled softly as he recalled Rodney's reaction to them.

"I am so not taking a woman's self defense class. Just because I fight like a girl doesn't mean I'll join a ladies class."

"It's called close quarters combat, Mer and you're getting private lessons or semi-private since I'll be joining you."

"Really? Why?"

"Let's just say I'm due for a refresher."

It was true that John hadn't really paid attention to keeping up his hand-to-hand combat skills but that was only part of the reason he was joining Rodney. What he didn't tell Rodney was that he was considering hiring Michael Bates to be his head of security.

"He's an ex-marine and tough as nails and teaches both men and women how to 'deal with violent threats and worst case scenarios'. Sound familiar to you?"

John was determined that when Rodney returned to Atlantis he would be in a better position to defend himself.

"Well, I if you think you can learn something I guess I could learn a thing or two."

John snorted softly to himself. Wait until Rodney found out about the wilderness survival training they would be going on in a couple of weeks. John had already made the arrangements and again he was planning on using the trip as an opportunity to evaluate potential employees.

When John finally found the stargate he was planning to lead his own expedition to the Pegasus galaxy and he intended to avoid the mistakes the Atlantis expedition had made.

The two brothers he had contracted to take them out into the wilderness were Native American ex-military men who had grown up living off the land. His expedition was going to be as self sufficient as possible.

Ivan was sprawled across the couch and merely opened one lazy eye to give him an inquiring look before drifting back to sleep. Snoring softly it was scary how much the cat resembled his owner.

Settling down on the other end of the couch, John stifled a yawn while he flipped through one of the books that had been nearby. Rodney's apartment was covered in books, periodicals and loose papers. Though not meticulously catalogued and arranged the collection was not left in a haphazard or sloppy condition either. It matched the rest of the apartment, a space that was obviously well cared for and definitely lived in.

John really didn't care for most of the popular science fiction out there but this author, Ursula Le Guin, wrote with a poetic style that appealed to him. Having noted the various works by Solzhenitsyn and even a battered copy of Tolstoy's War and Peace, John once again had to revise his assessment of Rodney McKay.

The man hid behind a one-dimensional veneer of biting sarcasm and egotistical arrogance.

~*~

John awoke with a gasp to the sensation of smooth, warm hands kneading the tension out of his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply savouring the subtle scent of a forest meadow, floral and musky with an underlying hint of spearmint.

"Sarah?"

Ivan watched him intently for a moment before lifting himself off the leather covered cushion and, after first stretching out, jumping onto the floor with a muffled thump.

"Hello John."

Sarah's hands were feather light on his face, outlining his jaw line and tracing his ears, her hands moving in tandem. He shivered as she began to card gently through his hair, her fingers lifting up and separating the tufts he was certain were left standing on end.

It was an intimate and sensual experience that left his body shuddering with anticipation. He wanted nothing more than to pull her down onto him but he had learned early on that it didn't work.

He had spent his first year in Nevada sleeping his way through the department and then with almost everyone else he met. Always a one night stand and never at his place. Male or female, he wasn't fussy and being in Vegas he had never lacked for suitable and willing partners.

That activity had stopped when he realized that nothing could fill the void. What a cliché. He hadn't had sex since and the gambling and drinking had taken over a larger portion of his life. He wasn't sure which had been more destructive.

Giving into his fantasy now would only make him feel worse tomorrow. Besides having sex with a hallucination would only mean he would wake up cold and sticky in the morning. Still, he stifled an involuntary whimper of protest when, with a firm kiss to the top of his head, she left him to look through Rodney's books.

"What are you reading? Anything interesting?" she asked him while she flipped through a physics journal before placing it back onto the shelf.

"Nah, just an old novel."

"Do you like him?"

"Who?" John asked genuinely puzzled.

"Dr McKay Johnny, who else would I be asking about?" she replied in a soft bemused tone.

John smiled. Sarah was the only one allowed to call him that. It had started out as a tease but quickly became an endearment she saved for their quiet moments.

"He's a complex and interesting person and I've enjoyed his company so yeah, I guess you can say I like him."

"Mmmm," she replied in a noncommittal voice that John knew meant she was anything but neutral on the subject. It didn't matter though what she thought about his comment because essentially he was talking to himself. John let himself relax out of his state of high alert.

"Oh my God, I don't believe it."

John was up in an instant and leaning over Sarah's shoulder to examine more closely the large textbook she was holding.

"Listen to this."

John leaned forward even more and followed as she read aloud.

"The importance of the translator keeping the cultural context in the forefront cannot be emphasized enough. Consider the following passage found etched into a series of bronze plates found in the lowermost level of the lesser pyramid. Translated literally the writer would appear to be telling us…"

"Let me see that."

John could not believe what he was reading.

"…that the gods appeared through great circles of standing water and if blessed with the symbols of the heavens the reader too could follow in the footsteps of their greatest gods…He's describing a stargate."

John let out his breath slow and easy. This might be his breakthrough.

"Maybe to you he is."

"What do you mean?"

"To everyone else he's just making a point about common translation errors."

"When in fact what he's doing is postulating about a favourite theory without appearing to be a crackpot."

"He's a clever man. Who is he?"

"Dr Daniel Jackson, tenured professor of Archaeology at the University of California, Berkeley," John read aloud from the back of the dust jacket.

"You always liked California."

In that moment with her eyes alight with excitement Sarah seemed so real, so alive that John didn't even try to resist touching. Reaching out he brushed the soft muted red curls from her face and pulled her in for a soft kiss.

John woke up with a start to the sight of Rodney hovering over him, Dr Jackson's textbook lying open across his chest.

"What are you doing sleeping on the couch? I thought you were a morning person? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else right now? Do you want coffee?"

Oh crap, John thought, looking at his watch. Not quite yet but soon enough he would be late. "Later Mer, got things to do, people to see."

He grinned as he raced for the bathroom already flinging off his t-shirt as he went.

~*~

Michael Bates was terse, efficient, and very good at his chosen field. He proceeded to teach Rodney the down and dirty of self-defense. How to spin an attacker into a fight ending choke hold, how to snap an opponent's elbow, several knock out palm strikes, toe holds, wrist and face locks and other brutal holds, what to do if you end up on your back with someone on top of you.

Rodney, on his part, responded in what John recognized as a typical McKay defense mechanism. Neither one of them was safe from his biting sarcasm nor his acerbic wit delivered within a constant stream of words liberally infused with complaints and criticisms. John should have found it appalling but instead he found himself stifling back smirks and grins and once biting his lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. He couldn't help himself from responding at times with a few well-chosen remarks and, damn it, it was exhilarating.

While Bates didn't share John's appreciation of McKay's expressive personality he did persevere with a patience and professionalism that John was gratified to see. Bates continued to work with Rodney without the eye rolls or muttering or sighs of exasperation that John might have expected to see. He instead focused on achieving the session objectives with a dogged determination. If John had any reservations about hiring him before then they had been dispelled by the end of the workout.

"We'll have to change tomorrow's session to the morning, Mr. Sheppard, I teach a class at the college in the afternoon."

"Not a problem, we'll just switch around our session at the firing range…"

"Are you insane, you can't possibly think I could do this again?"

Rodney was sweaty, flushed and genuinely agitated. John took him gently by the elbow and steered him into a quiet alcove located outside the workout room. Leaning in close John spoke softly in a low persuasive voice.

"When it all goes south again, and it will happen, I want you to be better prepared. This is about you having the skills to survive, to stay alive and to maybe save someone you care about."

Rodney's head snapped up at the last bit, his blue eyes wide and startled like he had just perceived an astonishing revelation and he faced John, his eyes searching.

"But I can't."

"You've been in a strange galaxy fighting a war against unimaginable enemies and despite everything you've come out OK. I want you to continue to beat the odds."

"I, I'm not good at this kind of thing. This is not what I do, what I'm good at."

"Only you're best effort, Mer, that's all I ask."

Rodney licked his lips nervously and finally nodded. "Fine, I'll do it your way which will probably entail you throwing me out of a single engine death trap into the wilds of Colorado to find my way back home."

John just gave him a great big goofy grin.

"Oh, my God, you are. You're going to kill me, I'm going to die."

"No one's going to die," John told him, a warm smile replacing the grin, "and we're going together and we'll be driving into the bush on these cool ATV's."

"But, I get hypoglycemic if I don't eat, and I can't be scrabbling in the dirt for bugs and things or eating pine twigs and berries that'll probably kill me and …"

"Relax, I'm not going to test your survival skills by making you live off the land. I'll be doing that for you."

"What?"

"I'll live off what you can scrounge and since I don't get hypoglycemic I may be uncomfortable but I'll live."

"But you can't, I can't."

"Yes, you can. Smartest man in two galaxies, remember? Besides you have a couple of weeks to prepare and I've done this before so yes, we can so do this."

During the next two weeks John witnessed what it must have been like when Rodney had worked on two concurrent doctorates. The man just didn't stop and in this case Rodney hadn't planned at stopping either but John forced him to.

"You need a life apart from work, Mer."

Rodney capitulated, more or less. They continued to spend most mornings at the firing range and the afternoons working with Bates. In between they usually visited the restaurant, much to Alexia's delight. Sometimes Callidora joined them and when she did they inevitably ran late sometimes having to call ahead to inform Bates of the delay.

John even arranged for them to visit a botanist at the University of Colorado who was a self-proclaimed survivalist. After warning the scientist to be on his best behaviour, having received more than an earful about the shortcomings of the soft sciences, he only had to stomp on Rodney's foot twice.

Dr Robert Brown came from a long line of botanists. His mother and his sister both were prominent in the field. In fact he had accepted the post in Colorado to be closer to his sister Katie, who worked with the U.S. government out of Cheyenne Mountain.

"What did you say your name was again," he asked Rodney.

"Uhm, Dr Rodney Mckay," Rodney stuttered and stopped to clear his throat before he continued, "and I do know your sister. We worked on the same project. Can't say anymore, sorry it's classified."

From the flush that began to creep up the man's neck and the way he stuttered out his name John guessed that Rodney had more than a passing acquaintance with Dr Katie Brown.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot. I'm just glad she's been transferred some place closer. Her last post took her away for a long stretch at a time."

"Yes, well, tell her I said hello. You were telling us about the physical characteristics of wild arrowroot and its preferred habitat. Please continue."

John only half listened to the conversation between the two very different scientists. He had what he had come for, namely the local area best suited for a survival-training exercise. He wanted to give Rodney the best chance at succeeding. He was curious about what had happened between Rodney and Katie Brown.

"Well, you going to tell me about it," John asked as soon as they were settled in the car.

"There's nothing to tell."

John gave Rodney a speculative look, didn't say any more but placed his hands carefully on the ten and two position on the steering wheel, and pointedly did not start up the car.

"OK, fine. Katie and I had a little fling. It didn't last."

"Why? Did she find out you were married?"

Rodney glared at him. It was a very impressive one too.

"No, my marital status is not a secret on base. She was…too nice. She deserved a better person in her life."

"Rodney having the social niceties of a rabid bear doesn't mean you aren't a good person."

"I'll accept that assessment if you'll admit that the same holds true for yourself. You have to believe that you're a decent person who has made some bad decisions. I want to hear you say it, John, I want you to believe it."

John started up the car and pulled out onto the street without saying a word.

"OK, have it your way for now, but I'm a stubborn son-of-a-bitch and I won't give up on this," Rodney told him.

They drove the rest of the way back to Rodney's apartment in companionable silence. It was something that was appreciated but surprising. Apparently Rodney did have some sense.

That night, Rodney started pumping John for everything he knew about survival training and then he surfed the web for more information especially regarding the edible fauna and flora of the area where they planned their trip. One night, after he had spent the day interviewing candidates, John arrived at Rodney's apartment to find the scientist huddled over no less than four campfire mockups.

"I've never had to start a campfire all by myself. I'm ninety percent sure that the design of this one is the most efficient but we obviously can't test it in the apartment."

"Obviously," John replied deadpan.

"Even given the variables inherent in a survival situation I think this one is the best model. You think this is stupid don't you?"

"Stupid is such a relative term."

"You can be such an ass."

"It takes one to know one."

"Oh, how very creative, did they teach you that in Detective school?"

"You mean how to be an ass?"

Rodney straightened up from his position over the fake campfire and turned to him with this amused smirk. "Yes, in what school of hard knocks did you learn the skills required of an ass."

"Probably in the same place you learned."

"In that case I would surmise we both received the bulk of our instruction through the United States military."

John smirked right back. Being an ass should not be this much fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**If You Go Into the Woods Today**

A few days later John found himself lugging a giant piece of baggage out to his rental car. A large piece of luggage covered in wide, haphazardly arranged bands of red and white.

"It's a Canadian thing right?"

"Yes, much better than a boring red maple leaf."

"What's in this thing, it must weigh over a hundred pounds."

"Thirty Eight point six kilos, actually."

"So it's not quite a hundred but still, a son of a bitch to be carrying around, McKay."

"You said I could bring one bag and a pack with whatever I could carry on my back and whatever I can comfortably fit in a tac vest."

"Yes, but I was thinking something a little bit less elaborate. We are supposed to be roughing it."

"It's well within the commercial airline guidelines, well maybe it might be considered overweight but certainly within the maximum allowable. Besides I thought we were riding in on cool ATV's."

"Yeah, we are, so never mind." It was easier to bring the bag than to argue with Rodney over its necessity.

Andrew and Lionel were as different as two brothers could be and still share the same parentage. That they did have the same parents John knew because McKay asked them, his blue eyes wide and incredulous as his gaze darted back and forth between them.

He also knew that their given names had come from their Father's British side of the family, again because Rodney had asked. In some ways, accompanying Rodney was like going on an outing with a five year old, a very precocious, cranky five year old.

Andrew was a large man with dark brown hair cut into a short military style that contrasted incongruously with the mountain man bush of a beard that he also sported. The quiet one of the pair his smoldering dark eyes spoke of an underlying passion. With his well-worn checkered bush jacket, torn jeans and sloppy looking hiking boots John saw a man who would be easily underestimated. John should know he had cultivated the same façade himself.

Lionel was taller and leaner and a polar opposite to his brother and partner. Dressed in khaki cargo pants and a crisp blue button down shirt he could have passed for a high-powered executive out in the woods for some company bonding exercise. His gaze was shrewd and he spoke with confident eloquence.

"Good morning, Mr. Sheppard, Dr McKay, I trust your drive here was uneventful." Lionel spoke for both of them, a muted grunt of acknowledgement all that was forthcoming from his brother.

"Oh my God, it's Paul Bunyon and Dr Who," exclaimed Rodney in reply.

If either one was offended by Rodney's remark or the fact that he referred to them as Paul and Doctor from then on they hid it well.

"If you would please, this way gentleman and we can load up the ATV's and be on our way. The base camp is 30 miles in and we should arrive in time to set up camp before lunch after which we will commence with your training."

Rodney, predictably, talked non-stop alternating between complaints and surprisingly astute questions, which John either ignored or listened to attentively. It wasn't long before they had the camp set up and they were ready to get down to business.

A week later, tired and in desperate need of a good long soaking, they were almost done. Rodney walked with a perpetual smug, self-satisfied expression and well he should. John had done exactly as he had previously suggested and carried enough MRE's for Rodney's needs but had relied exclusively on what the scientist was able to hunt or gather.

Rodney's task had been to provide for John as if he was an injured teammate unable to take care of himself. Rodney had applied himself to the survival lessons with an intensity that John could see puzzled their guides. It took time to become McKay proof. After a few days of instruction they had been dropped off in one of the ATV's and had to hike their way out.

If John had any doubts, they were dispelled that first day. Rodney had proven remarkably adept at recognizing the edible native plants that he had first seen only a few days ago and by lunchtime, he had gathered enough greens and edible tubers to make an adequate meal.

Not surprisingly, the evening campfire was built and started with an efficiency to be envied by the most experienced outdoorsman.

Dinner was some kind of water creature that John didn't want to examine too closely. By the look of surprise on his face, he didn't think Rodney had intended on catching the thing. Along with more of the cattail roots that he had cooked at lunch, completing the meal John couldn't really complain. John especially didn't complain when Rodney produced a pouch of orange powder from his tac vest and sprinkled it on his food. It was sweet, spicy and salty and it really did make the bitter greens and bland roots more palatable.

"McKay ultimate seasoning, it's a secret family recipe." Rodney explained at John's inquiring look.

"Mmm, what else have you got in there."

"Everything that I'll need," Rodney replied with confidence.

John was pleased to note that underneath the constant griping and grumbling Rodney appeared to be confident with a positive air about him. Attitude was everything.

Breakfast was a rabbit that had been captured in the snares Rodney had set out the night before. A nylon sac full of the red wild raspberries gathered from the tangled bushes that grew alongside the rocky slopes beside the creek bed supplemented the small bird that had also become caught in Rodney's snare and provided another meal. Again, John didn't have anything to complain about.

They were within steps of completing their three days of survival training when it happened.

They could hear the four-wheeler coming down the narrow trail well before it came into sight. Lionel, jumped down as the vehicle slowed as it approached them and took their packs from them. John returned his grin. They were a couple of hours ahead of schedule, not something John had anticipated but Rodney had surprised him again.

Looking back John couldn't say exactly what happened. It could have been the added weight of the packs in his hands or the bump in the trail or nothing at all. The important part was that the small trailer full of their gear wobbled on some loose stones causing Lionel to stumble.

Whatever the cause time and motion had come to a complete and utter halt for a split second just before, like a cartoon character, his arms flailing, Lionel fell off the edge of the trail.

John was the first to reach him and knew immediately that the man's injuries were beyond his expertise. It had been years since he had found himself in a situation where he needed to use more than the most basic first aid; a deficiency that he would be sure to correct.

John winced as a flurry of dust and loose stones rained down the steep side of the ravine and he instinctively hunched himself over the injured man, yelping as a couple of larger stones, rocks really, bounced off of his back and shoulders.

"What the hell McKay!"

He watched as Rodney slipped and almost went careening down the side of the ravine himself, sending another flurry of stones clattering down on them. Rodney recovered and cautiously made his way down the side of the ravine carrying the ridiculous red and white suitcase.

"Don't touch him."

John stiffened at the tone, so this was McKay's command voice.

"Do exactly as I say."

"McKay? What do you think you're doing?"

John had seen Rodney almost pass out once when one of Alexia's kitchen staff had gotten their hand caught in the automatic mixer. The injury had been minor but had bled out quite a bit. The sight alone had left Rodney a quivering, shuddering wreck.

Rodney had pulled up short at the sight of the injured man. His face was pinched and went from white to grey as John watched him. He swallowed hard and then taking a deep cleansing breath he turned to face him.

"I know what I'm doing, John."

I need you to trust me, went unspoken but John understood. He nodded.

"What do you need me to do?"

John's eyes widened in shock as Rodney swung open his battered suitcase and revealed its contents. John had been to medical centers that had less equipment than what was in the kit in front of him.

Rodney moved with a brisk and fluid efficiency. John followed his instructions and soon Lionel wore a cervical collar and had been gently maneuvered onto a portable backboard. Andrew had stopped shaking and his color had improved considerably once he was given the task of monitoring his brother's vitals from a sophisticated monitor Rodney had somehow attached to the injured man.

"Andrew I need you to do something for me."

Rodney did not stop working as he spoke with a gentleness John had not seen before.

"Read them off to me, each one once every minute until I tell you to stop. Can you do that? Good."

Rodney's hands were rock steady as he neatly inserted the I.V. needle and then cleaned and stitched up a head wound. A broken leg and probably sprained wrist was expertly immobilized.

Rodney kept up a running commentary on what he was doing and why, his voice quiet and confident.

John in response kept up a steady stream of questions and comments because he found it kept him from freaking out and from the improved color in Rodney's face he suspected it was doing the same for him.

"Ok, that does it, not much else I can do here."

Rodney was pale and looked like he was two steps short of collapsing from exhaustion.

"Come on Mer, let's go sit down. Andrew can let you know if anything changes. The med-evac chopper won't be here for a least another half hour."

John quietly led him to the other side of the stream that ran the length of the ravine the two of them easily stepping over the thin trickle of water. Neither one of them spoke until they had reached the series of boulders that lay as testament to the power of the forces that had carved the trench though the countryside.

"Cinnamon."

"What."

"My favourite flavour of gum is cinnamon."

"OK"

"Big Red but it was impossible to get in the sandbox, in Afghanistan," John clarified when Rodney shot him a puzzled look.

"Sarah never seemed to have any problem locating spearmint, though. It was her favorite. Must have appealed to some of the brass, I don't know, it was how we met."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I want to know how an astrophysicist and engineer who faints at the sign of blood has the skills of an experienced field medic."

"And you think you can trade it off with a story about sharing candy with your girlfriend?"

Rodney gaze met his and didn't waver. John tried, oh he tried, to pull up the expression he knew would mask his pain, would conceal his inner self, but he just couldn't. He didn't want to hide anymore.

"I'm sorry," Rodney whispered as he broke eye contact.

"No it's OK, it's just that there's not much that's not in my file. There's not too much left that you haven't already read about."

"I never read it."

Rodney's admission was spoken so quietly that John almost missed it.

"I haven't seen most of your file. Richard gave me some key points to use against you, to try to manipulate you but…"

"Why not Mer, why haven't you."

"Because it would have been cheating," Rodney shot back, his eyes incandescent with anger.

John didn't know what to say. He couldn't explain the pull he felt, the need to get to know this man in front of him. The need he felt to protect him and keep him close. Maybe it was part of his destiny. John didn't know but it was apparent that Rodney also shared a need to connect. A need to get to know him, this world's John Sheppard.

"I falsified my academic record."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me or has that mop of unruly spikes begun to interfere with the function of your ears. I'm not repeating myself."

"You don't have multiple degrees?"

"Don't be stupid, of course I do. It was the timeline I adjusted."

"So you have two doctorates in astrophysics and engineering just not…"

"Just not earned concurrently like I tell everyone, like my educational record indicates."

"I suppose it is impressive to be able to say you got them at the same time?"

John felt uncertain. John was so accustomed to Rodney's over the top, sometimes brutal honesty that he forgot that this man knew how to keep secrets, a man apparently with secrets.

"So not the point."

"Then what, pray tell, is the point."

Rodney's heart really wasn't into the execution of the glare he directed at John. He quickly looked away, focusing on a spot just over John's left shoulder as he mumbled something, something, something

.

"Oh come on, like I could possible catch that and my hearing is fine."

"I said that I falsified my academic record to hide the medical degree I don't want anyone to know I have."

It was rare that anything left John speechless and so completely flabbergasted.

"So your…uhm"

"Hypochondria?"

"Yeah."

"A front, clever uh?"

"But why?"

"That freak out you witnessed last week when the cook almost ripped off his hand?"

John reached out with a steady hand when he noticed how the blood seemed to have suddenly drained completely out of Rodney's body.

"Well, that's not a front. It got so bad it was making me physically ill. I was literally killing myself. I wonder if there's a term for severe phobia of neurosurgery, can't say there would be much call for that."

"You were a brain surgeon?" John squeaked.

Oh this was getting better and better. It was so surreal that John gave himself a sharp pinch.

"Board certified neurosurgeon. I deleted that from the records too."

"But today, how did you manage that?"

"I can pull it together if I have to. I've only had to a couple of times. I try to surround myself with competence; though don't let my staff know I said that."

"And no one questioned you?"

Rodney shrugged.

"I'm a genius and a very knowledgeable hypochondriac." Rodney sighed and this time his gaze met John's, the blue sharp and clear. "I'm thinking of not going back."

John hadn't considered that possibility. He took a breath to protest, to voice his objections to tell him 'hell no, I need you on my team, McKay' but he instead took a drink from his water bottle and looked up into the clear blue sky.

He had given up the sky, given up on flying just like he had given up on himself. They were both damaged and who was he to give advice.

Neither one of them had a chance to say more as the whump, whump, whump coming from the sky grew loud and insistent and it had been an eternity since he had felt the vibration of a chopper beneath him. That night it was John who woke covered in a cold sweat, shuddering and shaking with the warmth at his back and a soft soothing voice telling him that he was safe and everything would work out.

The next day was cold and dreary with a steady drizzle of rain falling throughout the early morning hours. Not too long ago, considering the accident and his breakdown the night before, John would have expected his mood to match the gloomy weather. Instead, he felt light and almost giddy like a band of chains that had wrapped themselves around his body had finally snapped letting him free.

He had found what he had come for, in fact he was leaving with much more than he had anticipated.

"So, McKay, I'll see you around?"

"I have absolutely no doubts that you will."

If John had been more quiet and introspective than usual, Rodney had more than filled up the silence. Hurricane McKay had swept through leaving nothing untouched in his wake.

"How can you possibly think you can get that in there like that? Move it Sheppard."

John had to admit that his duffle bag had never been so efficiently packed before. When he was in the military if his baggage had begun to weigh him down he had simply left something behind.

"Food, Sheppard, you are in charge of food and coffee. So why are you still standing here?"

John just smirked and addressed Ivan instead. "Come on buddy, let's go make some coffee before daddy cranky pant's head explodes."

"What do you mean you don't have your boarding pass. What kind of idiot goes to the airport without their boarding pass."

"I prefer to use the self-serve kiosk, it reduces the chance that I'll forget it at home."

"Right."

"What's that supposed to mean."

John was all ready to go and was just waiting for a cab having returned his rental the night before. He was tired and aching from the exertion of their weekend in the wild and his patience was admittedly wearing a little thin.

"You just don't want me to know where you're going."

It was true that John wanted to keep a low profile. He would be in the SGC's face soon enough.

"I could have driven you to the airport."

"This is your first day back at work, McKay you don't need the stress of driving to the airport. I'll be fine."

"You don't trust me."

John sighed and pulled out a business card from his pocket and scribbled on the back. "It's a secure line. If I'm not there tell them who you are and they'll get in touch with me, any time, any day."

"Blacktail Enterprises?"

"I trust you, Mer."

"Oh"

John lifted his bag to his shoulder and opened the door. "I'll just go wait downstairs. The cab should be here any minute."

"Wait."

John stopped, puzzled at the expression on Rodney's face.

"You have the ancient gene," Rodney blurted out "it's what you need to activate and use ancient technology."

John nodded. Uh, sure why not, just slot it in with the rest of the weird and wacky world he found himself in. "Uh, thanks for the heads up."

"No, you don't understand. Your gene is the strongest expression of the ATA factor we've ever come across and if you're anything at all like the other Sheppard you also have a remarkable affinity for manipulating the ancient's artifacts."

"Not many ancient artifacts hanging around, McKay, I'll be careful. I promise."

"I had to have Radek disconnect the power supply to the chair before I dared bring you on that tour, John. It would have lit up like a Christmas tree the moment you stepped foot in that room."

John closed the door and moved closer to Rodney, his head tilted as he studied the scientist. "What's really going on here McKay? What's got your panties in such a twist?"

Rodney gulped, and wrung his hands together a couple of times, before letting them slide down to hang loosely at his side.

"There are people, The Trust, the Lucien Society, the Goual'd, heck even most of the IOA, who would do almost anything to gain your 'cooperation', to have access to your genes. If the wrong people get a hold of you, John, you may never see the light of day again."

"Who else knows about this?"

"The full picture? Just me, Radek and O'Neill. It's the real reason why you were put under surveillance. It wasn't just me being obsessive."

John dropped his bag and closed the distance between them and acting on impulse he pulled the other man into a hug. John stopped counting his breaths when Rodney finally wrapped his arms around him and the tension slowly leaked away from both their bodies.

"I meant it when I said I trusted you," John whispered, "You do what you think is best at your end and I'll warn my people. I'm not alone anymore, Mer."

John hung on for a moment longer and then released his hold and pulled back. Picking up his bag he again headed out the door.

"Sheppard?"

"Yeah?"

"Take care and be safe."

"You too, McKay, you too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Archaeology, It Is What It Is**

Sarah had been right he had always loved California. To be specific he loved the beaches of California. He had almost settled here instead of taking the job offer in Vegas.

He had gone surfing on the last day he had to make up his mind and accept or reject the offer of employment. The surf conditions were less than ideal. Heck, who was he kidding? With a storm coming in off the coast the conditions on the beach that day were downright dangerous. He didn't care. He hadn't cared about much of anything back then.

He had caught that last wave full on but having dropped in late, he found himself having to bail. The wave had come down on him and driven him deep under the water.

He could feel himself losing it, getting weaker when something bumped up against him. Suddenly he found the strength to push himself towards the surface and he was bursting through the water, gasping for breath. His board was gone, well he had known that would happen when he had bailed, probably well on its way to Hawaii by now. He had crawled onto the beach and collapsed on his back.

"You OK, John?"

He had scrubbed the water from his face and blinked at the sight of Sarah in a bright pink wet suit standing over him. Sarah couldn't get enough of pink. Thank god that the default color when pink was unavailable or inappropriate had been black or white. A foil to the pink she had told him once. John didn't think they made wetsuits in that particular shade. They probably didn't except in his very bizarre and twisted imagination.

"Wow, that's just, uh, stunning."

Sarah beamed and lay down beside him.

"Take the job, John."

"It's in the middle of the desert, Sarah. I thought I could do it but I'm not so sure anymore. There's always that security job at Berkeley."

"No John, you're needed in Vegas. You'll make a difference there."

John doubted that but he was tired of arguing with himself.

"Fine."

Not counting his current location in Seattle, he hadn't returned to the ocean since then not because he had consciously decided to give up surfing or anything like that but because if he did, even for a short vacation, he knew that he would never go back.

Now he was driving through the convoluted roads within the Berkeley campus of the University of California and he was twitchy and restless. He swore that even though he was three miles from the coast that he could smell the salt air and hear the echo of the ocean's heartbeat, the waves and the surf pounding out the rhythm of the earth's life force.

He had spent the last couple of months going through every one of Dr Jackson's textbooks and, whoa, surprise, surprise a couple of best selling novels. After also bringing home every single book or periodical Daniel had referenced. John's compact apartment now looked just like McKay's.

John suppressed a shudder. He was used to traveling light and accumulating nothing more than would fit in his duffle bag.

He had studied every word and every illustration starting in chronological order and had even begun to teach himself the ancient language that Daniel had discovered. The hieroglyphs were more complex than anything ever found before and John agreed with Daniel's theory that they were part of a new, that is undiscovered, language.

John had tried to contact the man but hadn't been able to get past his assistant. All emails and phone calls had been efficiently rebuffed. The President should have such a PA on his payroll. What kind of professor had a personal assistant that could rival the secret service? Apparently 'The' Dr Daniel Jackson did.

John had no choice but to fly to California to do this in person. As a precaution, he had actually enrolled in one of Daniel's archaeology classes and today was the first lecture. If nothing else he might learn something.

Dr Jackson was an engaging and passionate speaker and his lecture was fast paced and informative. John was glad he had come.

At the end, the class was given a few lines of text to translate. While everyone else was busy copying down the text John studied it. He had no intention of actually handing in any assignments. Right, homework, John hated all paperwork regardless of its form.

The phrases were simple and straightforward, or maybe not. Wait a minute, that couldn't be right, but no, quickly referencing the textbook he had brought with him. John burst out laughing. His 'donkey braying' full out belly laugh because it was a dumb blond joke with an Egyptian goddess taking the place of the blond; an easily denied, double entendre, dirty, filthy sex, blond joke.

John waited outside the lecture room for the last of the students to leave.

"You're the first one to ever get it. The funny part, that is," Daniel told him with an easy grin.

"Yeah, I guess that says something about where my mind is."

"It says something about your knowledge of Egyptian hieroglyphs and culture."

John had joined Daniel as he had begun to walk back to his office.

"I read your books."

"Really? Which ones?"

"All of them."

"Uh, that's interesting."

Daniel didn't stop walking but he was nervously looking around the peaceful campus finally settling his suspicious gaze on John. "Look, Mr…"

"John Sheppard and I want you to help me find the other stargate." John knew he had him just by the gleam he saw in the other man's eyes.

"What makes you think there's another stargate on Earth Mr. Sheppard."

Oh, not only did he have him, but also John had been so right about the archaeologist slash linguist knowing much more than anyone gave him credit.

"Strategically speaking it would have been stupid for the ancients not to have brought a back door with them to the planet they planned on using as a gateway to the Milky Way galaxy."

Daniel stopped abruptly in front of the building John knew housed his office and lab. Turning around he pointed his finger at him and opened his mouth to speak. John stood his ground a tiny smug smile tugging at his lips.

"I'll take you with me," John said not giving the other man a chance to speak. "To explore new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no, uhm, Jackson as gone before," John told him, completely straight faced, ruthlessly squashing down the insane urge to giggle because really his life was completely ludicrous.

Daniel laughed. "How long have you been waiting to fit that in?"

"Not as long as you'd think Dr Jackson," John told him with a chuckle, remembering movie nights with Rodney who had introduced him to the original Star Trek series.

"Daniel, call me Daniel. Have you ever been to Mexico John?"

"I seem to vaguely recall a spring break in there someplace."

"Well, come to the lab, it's Friday and everyone's gone so we can talk in private. I have something you might find interesting."

~*~

John felt the hairs on the back on his neck stand on end as the two men in suits approached them. They had obviously been waiting for them, at least for Daniel as John had been careful to cover his tracks. John had a bad feeling about this and hung back as Daniel approached the two men.

"Dr Jackson, I hadn't realized you'd be at the office today. I was about to leave you a note."

The man had a polished, practiced air about him. This was a man used to getting what he wanted and a man who was obviously armed. At least to John the tell tale bulge beneath the jacket was obvious. John cursed his decision to leave his sidearm back at the house. He hadn't wanted to take the chance. The chance that Daniel would have noticed and been scared off.

John's decision whether to make a strategic retreat or jump into the fray was made for him when Daniel noticed that someone was in his lab.

"Hey, what are you doing in here," Daniel shouted as he pushed his way past the men in the hall to confront the person in the lab.

John had a glimpse of a figure dressed in black, holding a cardboard box, the kind used to store artifacts after they had been examined and catalogued.

"Dr Jackson there is no need to be alarmed," blue suit told him calmly.

"Yes, Dr Jackson, our associate finds your work fascinating especially your recent discoveries in Mexico," dark grey suit explained "perhaps we can go someplace quiet to talk," he added as he grasped Daniel's elbow.

Oh, fuck.

"No I don't think I'll be going with anyone today, thank you gentleman," Daniel told him as he broke the hold the other man had on him.

John concentrated on looking cowardly and intimidated as he looked around desperately for something he could use as a weapon. There, that thing that looked like a mini tire iron. John slipped in, snatched up the slender rod, and almost dropped it when the thing glowed briefly.

"_To serve and protect."_

It was a tickle at the base of his skull. It swept through his body with subtle, seductive warmth.

"_To protect, to protect,"_ it whispered softly so ephemeral that later John had to convince himself he had really heard something.

"He has the gene you fools, restrain him," a voice ordered sharply.

Oh shit. John didn't hesitate and swung the rod towards the two suits both of whom had pulled out their own staffs except that they had a strange phallic, snake shape. The two men immediately collapsed in a swirl of blue sparks.

The man left holding the cardboard box suddenly realized that he was alone and started to reach for his own weapon.

"Oh no, I don't think so," John told him pointing the now glowing rod straight at his chest, "Daniel?"

John waited just long enough for Daniel to wrench the box from out of the man's clenched fingers and then directed the rod to stun the man.

"Cool."

For a moment, they just stood there, John's rapid breaths filling the room as they both stared at the three bodies lying prone at their feet. John was the first to recover.

"We need to get moving. Is that what you wanted to show me?" John asked Daniel indicating the box still in the other man's hands.

Daniel nodded, his eyes a little glazed over, his expression just a tad on the wild side.

"Right, let's go."

John wasn't stupid. In light of the last conversation he had with Rodney John had taken precautions before he had come here today and he had brought backup.

"Markham, Stackhouse, I have the package. I repeat the package is secure. There are three hostiles currently incapacitated in lab space delta four. Execute mission plan beta. I repeat mission plan beta."

"Plan B, uh?"

John just shrugged his shoulders. He led the way through the maze of hallways and connecting pathways and tunnels that criss-crossed their way through the campus. John might have a lousy sense of direction but he had memorized the map of the campus and there it was.

John quickly pushed Daniel into the waiting sedan but didn't relax until he was certain that they weren't being followed. After a long, apparently unnecessary convoluted drive, the car pulled up to a boarded up business in a neighbourhood that had seen better days.

Ahmed had a safe house in key cities all over the world. John had added this one to the list weeks ago in preparation for his visit. On the outside the place looked run down and dilapidated but once they had walked through the outer area that had once served as retail space the inside offices were clean and bright.

Four of the inner cubicles had been converted to small but comfortable sleeping areas and the kitchen area served as a dining / living room. Off to one side but within easy access was a surprisingly well appointed bathroom.

John quietly retrieved his sidearm from its hiding place and carefully secured the area before allowing Daniel to make himself comfortable. Stackhouse and Markham he knew would have already secured the perimeter and set up a watch schedule.

"So that's what it means to have the gene."

Daniel had sat and watched patiently while John fondled the Mexican artifacts. Two of them had glowed momentarily and then went dead. Three John could tell had been activated by the odd tingle at the back of his head, that didn't go away until he tried thinking various versions of 'turn off' really, really hard. One had begun a steady, monotone stream of sounds that had a disturbing similarity to a countdown. John shut that one down immediately not in a hurry to find out what it did. For all that he knew it would spew out coloured confetti and play the ancient rendition of happy birthday though he somehow doubted that was the case.

"Fifteen years ago I was approached by an obscure arm of the US Military."

"Yeah, the SGC, we've met."

John had carefully re-packed the artifacts all except the rod, which he had slipped into his back pocket. Rodney had said the other Sheppard had a special affinity with ancient tech. He understood now. He could sense, there was no other word for it, the presence of the artifacts even after he had carefully put them away. Secured them in a safe on the other side of the building and he could still feel them. He wished he could convince himself that it was his imagination.

"They were interested in a paper I had written describing the hieroglyphs that we had discovered buried deep within one of the Egyptian pyramids. It had been exposed for the first time after a particularly bad storm."

"I read that paper. It touched on your theory that this was part of an undiscovered pre-historic language but you never followed up on it."

"Well, you know how it is when a secret arm of the military funds your research."

"Let me guess, three hundred page non-disclosure agreement."

"Actually it was a two page document at the time."

"Ouch, so that's how you've been able to get away with your hidden subtext."

Daniel smiled a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You noticed that, uh?"

"Kind of obvious, if you're already in on the big secret, that is. So what happened?"

"You mean why aren't I hopping through worm-holes as we speak?"

Worm-holes? John hadn't really thought much about what connected the stargate system together. McKay had probably mentioned it but it evidently hadn't stuck.

"I very conveniently became ill just before the initial mission was scheduled to depart."

John frowned at the choice of words and the tone of Daniel's voice. "You got sick? How bad was it?"

"I contracted e-coli supposedly from a bit of underdone sausage in the lentil stew. Since I was the only one who became ill, the idea that I was deliberately poisoned did cross my mind, though I don't think it was meant to keep me from going on the mission."

"What do you mean?"

"The mission was delayed and if we had departed as scheduled I would have gotten sick well into it."

"Who replaced you?"

"One of the supporting archeologists, he never made it back or at least he was never seen or heard of again."

"Did anyone make it?"

"I don't' know. By that time I had become skittish and withdrew from the program. Maybe I was being paranoid, but something just didn't smell right."

"So not so much that they cared if you went, but that the mission went south," John murmured, "so, why aren't you being paranoid now."

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding the truth inside a joke. I'm through hiding and I get the feeling that it's safer to trust a stranger than the SGC."

"I promise you Daniel, that I have no hidden agenda. What you see is what you get. I'm tired of hiding too. I'm just trying to get to where I belong."

John let the silence stretch out between them concentrating on the sandwiches he was preparing for his men. He would take third watch himself.

"So John, guess what else I found in Mexico."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sheppard's Folly **

John felt energized and happily hummed along with the horn section and sang out loud as Cash drawled out the chorus of ring of fire. He smiled as he remembered how it had driven Rodney bat shit crazy. Daniel didn't seem to mind. Once or twice he thought he heard the other man humming too, right with John and the man in black.

They were on the road to Mexico. At least Jason Smith and Matt Jones were. Having procured a fake passport for Daniel, John had laid out his diversion, which was simply having Daniel's sharp-toothed PA book flights for both him and her boss to Rome, Italy.

"Trust me John. Lisa will be in such a whirlwind rearranging classes and appointments that half the department will know within the hour where I'm supposedly headed."

Stackhouse and Markham would eventually drive out to the airport in John's rental car before catching a flight back to Colorado. He hoped that anyone looking would be facing the wrong direction as they slipped across the Mexican border.

John took his time with the drive south, stopping frequently and always paying in cash. He experienced first hand what made Daniel a true scholar. Daniel's curiosity and passion for the people around him was limitless and more than once John was able to see flashes of a brilliant mind. Daniel, John concluded was just as much a genius as Rodney was and he couldn't help but feel just a little smug that he now had two genius geeks watching his backside.

John was relieved when they finally hit El Paso without incident. Ahmed knew a guy that owed him. A guy that happened to own a Piper Dakota scheduled to leave on a special delivery to Mexico City the next day and John and Daniel were going with him.

John took a deep breath as he pulled into the small airport. He hadn't flown, except for a few commercial flights since he had crashed. Traveling in a small four seater like the Dakota might be problematic.

He had left Daniel at the motel and had come today to see if he could do it. He needed to know if he still had it in him because that would mean he was whole again. It would mean that he truly had survived and he needed to do that in order to complete his journey. The people who had lost their lives that day deserved nothing less.

His ascent was smooth and effortless and he felt as if he was afloat on wings of steel gossamer. The controls responded to his touch with the familiarity of a long time lover. The endless blue stretched out before him and welcomed him home. That night he slept better than he had in a very long time.

~*~

"Why are we here again?"

John knew he was beginning to sound just a little childish but he was anxious. He really wanted to keep moving and today's visit to the market had made him edgy.

"We need supplies, John," Daniel explained patiently "the site is isolated and I want to be prepared."

John nodded and scanned the crowd, looking for inconsistencies or worse yet, a familiar face. It was hot and muggy and John's patience was less than adequate to deal with the various shopkeepers Daniel needed to visit. While Daniel haggled, John stood watch until the subtle scent of mint and flowers drew him outside.

"Hey Sarah."

"Hi John."

John's breath caught in his throat. Sarah was wearing the same short, white, sleeveless dress that she had worn on their first real date. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he had first started seeing Sarah, the hallucination had been fuzzy and semi-transparent, a ghost haunting him.

With each appearance, Sarah became more solid, more defined, more real until no matter how many times he told himself not to, he just had to touch. He had to feel and immerse himself in the illusion.

As unhealthy as this no doubt was, John was not willing to let go. The red curls that fell to her shoulders were soft and silky and smelled like green apples and sunshine.

"John? Are you even listening to me?" Sarah asked the edge of her words softened by pouting lips.

"Uh, I guess not. What've you got?"

John frowned and focused on the coloured brochure she was holding up to him.

"I was asking if you'd be able to stop and take some time to yourself. Look at this, a series of cascading pools. You need some down time, John."

"Sure, maybe later," he told her absently shoving the brochure into his back pocket. "Oh crap."

"What is it?"

"It's blue suit," John told her as he turned around and stepped further into the tourist kiosk.

Fortunately, the clerk was still busy with an elderly couple who just couldn't make up their minds on which tour to book. John had hoped he was just being paranoid but a quick peek through the display of brochures confirmed his suspicions. He was no longer wearing a blue suit, of course, but it was the same man from California. They had to get out of here fast.

Just then, Daniel came out of the adjoining shop calling for him. Before the enemy could make his way through the busy street, John grabbed Daniel and ran.

~*~

Damn those bastards were persistent. They needed to visit the site where Daniel had found the ancient artifacts. John was positive that there was more to be discovered and that his gene would give him access.

"We need to get there first John. "

"Yeah, I know."

"We need a diversion."

"We need another car."

"I know someone, has all kinds of cars on his lot. He's right in the middle of the city and he rents as well as sells. I've dealt with him before."

"Mmm."

"What?"

"I could use a new hat and a new shirt," John explained as he pulled Daniel towards a couple of kids that were rather unsuccessfully hawking their stuff on the street.

Daniel stared incredulously at the wildly coloured cotton shirts and black floppy hats. Several half-crushed boxes lay in the trunk of a car that at first glance had appeared to be abandoned. A thin layer of dust covered the surface layers and Daniel started sneezing just from trying on one of the shirts.

"Here try this one," John told him handing him a shirt that one of the boys had been waving around and therefore been aired out a bit.

"Uh, John? I thought that maybe we would try for discrete and not, you know, stick out like some kind of crazy tourist."

John grinned.

"Haven't you heard? Sometimes more is less."

"Come on put them on, I'll explain later. How much for the whole bunch," he asked as he slipped on his own shirt and jammed the hat on top of his head.

They had a leisurely lunch at an open café and spent a couple of hours nursing cups of potent Mexican coffee as they studied the locals passing by. Daniel had a wicked sense of humour that fortunately tended towards understatement and subtlety. John smiled as he thought how this would have all gone down if he had been with Rodney instead. Rodney did not do subtle.

Between the two of them they spotted all three of the men that had accosted them in California as well as what appeared to be a new player in the game. A tall, long legged woman John only caught glimpses of and that only because of an accident involving a cyclist and a dog. The woman was good but after spending five years in the underbelly of Vegas with nothing better to do than watch the rest of the world go by, John was better.

Pulling his hat down even further over his head John stood up and stretched. It was time.

They drove his car to the car dealer's compound. The traffic density was starting to build. By the time they got out with their new vehicle, the driving conditions would be intense.

John followed Daniel into the office doing his best to suppress a smirk. Daniel was right they did look like a couple of crazy assed tourists. Minutes later, they came out of the building, a set of keys dangling from John's hands and walked around back to the fenced in compound.

An Austin mini came roaring out followed by a battered Volkswagen beetle a few minutes later. Behind them came an odd assortment of nondescript vehicles all with two men wearing identical floppy hats pulled low over their ears and crazy coloured shirts. Each vehicle raced away from the compound in a different direction and was soon lost in the burgeoning traffic.

A couple of hours found them were pulling into the little village of Tepozlian. It amazed John that such a raw, rugged environment existed within a short drive of a sprawling city of 20 million. He could see himself choosing Mexico City as a vacation destination knowing that fresh air and wide-open spaces were only a short distance away.

After finding a safe place to leave the car they walked straight down the main street until it turned into a trail that wound up the mountainside.

"It's a relatively small mountain," Daniel explained to John as they trudged upwards, "but the trail ascends at a wicked pace of almost 1200 feet in less than a mile."

He was a little jealous that not only could Daniel talk to him while he was walking but that he easily set a pace that had John red-faced and OK maybe puffing for breath just a little bit.

It was a beautiful trail, tall rock spires covered in vegetation jutting dramatically up from the slopes.

"There it is."

At the summit, there stood a 30-foot high pyramid.

"It dates back to the early Aztec era, probably around the early 1200's."

"Daniel, I can see people up there having their lunch."

"There are terraces, probably built for the priests that lived here. It was built to honour the god Tepoztecatl, god of fertility and Aztec moonshine."

"Seriously, moonshine?"

"Well, they called it pulque but that's what it was. The view is spectacular, by the way."

John had a hard time seeing this as an ancient outpost. For one thing, it just wasn't old enough and how had Daniel discovered ancient artifacts in what amounted to a tourist attraction. An out of the way, hard to get to, but nevertheless tourist destination. They were charging admission, John saw once they had gotten close enough.

"I found it by accident. I was here with a group of archeological students and I came across some carvings that seemed familiar. It wasn't until I got back to California and checked my notes that I realized they were the same as the ones I found in Egypt."

"The one's that led to the discovery of the stargate?"

"Exactly."

"So you came back and discovered the ancient devices."

"I came back and, you know, strictly speaking I probably shouldn't have taken the artifacts because you know…but I really needed to study them further and…"

"That's OK, Daniel, I understand. You wanted the chance to at least look at them before they were snatched away from you."

Daniel, flushed and clearly embarrassed, nodded. "I was going to bring them back when I was finished with them but now I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Is the second stargate here, Daniel?"

"It could be but more likely it's not. It would be an awkward place for a stargate, don't you think."

"Unless the intent was to hide it then it would be a perfect place," John mused.

"The entrance I found went down quite a ways and ended in a chamber. That's where I found the artifacts. I'm positive that there's more to it. I'm hoping that your genetics could get us further."

They had to wait a while for a young couple to move on before Daniel stepped up to the carvings he had discovered.

John watched as he pressed three of them, which caused a door to spring open with only a slight creak. Winding downwards was a steep, spiraling stone staircase.

"My theory is that the pyramid was built on top of an older site. It's not an uncommon practice to hide and protect what is considered holy or sacred places in this way."

They descended far below where John estimated the current pyramid structure ended. The stone steps were remarkably intact and as they went further down the temperature evened out to a more comfortable range. They were going deep underground and John was grateful for the lantern Daniel and brought as part of their supplies.

The staircase ended abruptly at a stone panel completely covered in intricate carvings. John recognized some of them as Egyptian hieroglyphs. Not something he would have expected to see at an Aztec site.

Daniel again pressed a series of carvings and the panel slid open with a quiet swoosh. The inner chamber was small. Plain stone pedestals of varied heights were arranged along the walls to the side of the doorway.

"This is where I found the artifacts, each one on it's own pedestal," Daniel explained.

John wasn't listening because the wall in front of him drew all of his attention. He ran his hand carefully across the surface. It looked just like the rest of the stone in the structure but was definitely not the same. The texture and warmth he could feel under his hand was like nothing he had ever felt before.

He gasped because there at the back of his mind, like a barely there feather gently touching his psyche was what he recognized as the contact of ancient technology.

Starting from the center of the panel he ran his hands slowly across the wall surface. There along the right hand edge a slight depression in the not stone fit John's hand perfectly. He closed his eyes and pressed, only letting out the breath he had held when the wall started to move aside.

Soft, natural toned lighting flared to life once John had stepped across the threshold. A shiny glass and metal console stood up against the far wall. He walked up to the console and carefully touched the top of the console smiling as it powered up.

He was vaguely aware of Daniel standing behind him.

"Ask for a visual map of the system," Daniel quietly advised.

A three dimensional display sprung up in front of them at John's mental request. He recognized some of the symbols on display from the language Daniel had discovered and documented in his earlier books but otherwise it was all gibberish to him.

"I would need to study it at length," Daniel explained as he used John's cell phone to take pictures.

"Wait I have an idea. Show us the stargate," John instructed while at the same time he visualized a global map.

Both men grinned as the display changed to a global map with two bright pulsating blue dots.

"That's the Egyptian site," Daniel exclaimed pointing at the dot nearest him.

"That means the other stargate is located in what looks to be Peru," John told him equally excited, "or at least where it was ten thousand years ago."

"Do you think we can take the console with us? What do you think, John?"

"That is a very good idea Dr Jackson. Please, if you will come this way."

Both men froze as a man dressed entirely in white stepped up into the small room. John had been so engrossed in their discovery that he had forgotten to watch their backs. He tensed to fight but the man swung closer to him and pointed what had to be a weapon straight in his face.

"Are you familiar with the Zat'nik'tel Mr. Sheppard?"

John automatically moved back a step shocked at how the man's voice had suddenly deepened in timbre and for sure he hadn't imagined that flash of golden fire behind the man's eyes.

"First hit stuns, second kills, and third disintegrates. We can do this the hard way, if you insist."

"Hey, I'm easy, no worries." John tells him holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Lead the way."

They have exited the building when John caught a glimpse of movement and without thinking he tackled Daniel out of the way as flashes of light streaked by his head. He lifted his head to see a set of boots in front of his face which he followed all the way up to a pair of long legs to see the same dark haired exotic looking woman in pig tails he had spotted tailing them earlier.

"Oooh, he's prettier up close. Can we keep him Jack?"

"Not this time Vala."

John turned toward the new voice. Colonel Jack O'Neill.

"You! I thought we had an agreement. If McKay is screwing with me, so help me…"

"Relax Sheppard. He's not screwing with you. We're not screwing with you. Besides didn't know you were involved in this until yesterday," Jack told him, his head cocked inquisitively.

"Well, wasn't involved until a few days ago," John finally admitted.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on here," Daniel exclaimed from down on the ground.

"Uh, sorry," John grunted as he helped Daniel to his feet.

"Hello Jack"

"Danny"

"You know each other?" John asked suspiciously.

"Jack and I were supposed to go on a mission together except that I became ill. Glad to see you made it back OK, Jack. "

"Oh." John said lamely.

"Yeah, and like some people we know," Jack said with a glance at John, "he wanted nothing more to do with us after that."

"So you being here is because you tracked Daniel."

Jack studied John's neutral expression carefully before answering.

"No we're here because we've been tracking these scumballs, who have been following you quite eagerly," Jack indicated with a nudge to the one of the fallen men's shoes.

"And they were doing a fine job until the great bug out," Vala exclaimed.

She moved in close enough that John caught the scent of her leather clothing and he wondered if she was exotic or alien.

"Which one were you in?" she asked, her voice going thick and sulky.

"Ah, the red Volkswagen beetle," Daniel answered for him as John visibly struggled to maintain his composure.

"Ooooo, clever. Come home with me for some pizza and sex."

Vala was leaning well within his personal space and he could detect an underlying layer of muskiness that was doing things to John's brain cells.

"Uhm."

Apparently, the brain cells responsible for coherent speech had been incapacitated. Definitely an alien.

'Leave the poor man alone, Vala."

"Why," Vala asked with a genuinely, puzzled expression "you don't think he likes pizza?"

John hadn't noticed the tall blond woman until she came up behind him holding a small data pad.

"So how did they find us," John managed to stammer.

"They no doubt detected the power signature when you initialized the ancient system. I'm detecting a slight energy signature sir," she told Jack "and it's coming from…him."

John relaxed his careful, blank expression in the face of Jack's glare and pulled out the artifact he had hidden in his pocket.

"Can't blame a man for trying, right?" he asked with a boyish grin as he handed over the piece of ancient tech.

"All of it Sheppard or I'll let Vala strip search you."

John smirked. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out two more pieces from his pockets, one from the jacket pocket of a surprised Daniel and one that was fastened to the handle of the knife in his ankle sheath.

The rod, he found he was reluctant to let go. It radiated an aura of reluctance. It was just a piece of tech nothing more, but he did think hard at it that it belonged to him and please don't work for anyone else. John shook his head to clear it, before slowly handing it over with the rest of the artifacts.

Jack's eyebrows went upwards with curiosity and John wondered what he was getting from it.

"Cell phone."

John stiffened but handed it over ignoring Daniels cries of protest. He watched as Jack deleted the pictures they had taken and handed the phone back otherwise untouched. Not that they would have gotten anything from data mining it, John had made sure of that, but it did speak to the probability that they were adhering to the agreement to leave him alone.

"Sorry Sheppard but keeping any of the cool toys you might stumble across was not part of the deal."

"Fine, it wasn't me that started this dog and pony show in the first place. I was just curious about the history of, well, you know everything and it just sort of got away from me."

Jack grimaced. "Yeah, well now you know what to expect. There'll be more where they came from what with your magic touch and all. Be careful, OK."

"Yeah, I will. I don't suppose you could, you know, give us a lift home?"

"Sorry can't do, we have our own ride coming, if you know what I mean. Teal'c will make sure you get to your car safely and to the airport in one piece. We'll pick you up there, Ok big guy."

Both John and Daniel yelped as the dark skinned warrior emerged silently from the shadows.

"Indeed, Colonel O'Neill it will be my pleasure to ensure that John Sheppard and Daniel Jackson are well on their way home."

"Fuck, when will I ever learn," he muttered to himself as he studied the massive hulk that stood before them studying them with a slightly amused expression. John had no doubt he was also an alien and wondered what he hid beneath the knitted beanie that he had pulled low over his head.

"Okay, fine," John finally conceded. At what point had being driven to the airport by an alien become relatively unremarkable?


	8. Chapter 8

Page 9 of 9

**In a Galaxy Far, Far Away **

Teal'c had not only dropped them off at the airport but also insisted that he accompany them to their gate. John couldn't see what kind of I.D. he had but whatever he flashed certainly carried some weight because they soon found themselves escorted right to the gate ramp leading onto their flight to LAX.

John had some vague notion of changing their flight to head to Peru once they had ditched the recalcitrant alien but Teal'c was thorough and didn't let either one of them out of his sight. By the time they had boarded John was pissed.

They had found it first. They at least deserved a shot at finding the elusive gate. If it weren't for him and Daniel the SGC wouldn't have even known a second stargate existed. It just wasn't fair but John knew instinctively that when it came to ancient tech nothing was easy or fair.

"If it makes you feel better a couple of months ago I heard the Russians had shown an unusual interest in some of the older Inca sites. Natalia Grakow has done some outstanding work, maybe she'll get to it first."

"No, it does not make me feel better."

"If you don't stop now, the guy behind you is going to pummel you onto the deck."

John glared but stopped banging his head against the headrest of the seat. They were taking off down the runway and would soon be airborne. The one good thing about having the actions of the last few days replay through his mind repeatedly was that he didn't have time to think about the impending flight.

"You don't have anything to read, do you?"

Daniel winced in sympathy.

"Sorry, no."

John sighed and pulled out the brochure that Sarah had shown him. It was creased and crumpled from being in his back pocket and he flattened it out carefully on the small airline table that he had pulled down once they were airborne.

Maybe Sarah was right. He needed some downtime. John started to read about the cascading pools and eclectic sculptures of Edward James, the English poet who had finally settled in Mexico to spend the remainder of his life to design and commission the most amazing works of art.

Buried deep within the jungle his coloured, concrete sculptures were both elaborate and intricate as well as simplistic in design; a staircase leading to nowhere, a giant hand reaching up to the sky. Odd, random geometric shapes dotted the landscape as carefully laid out pathways led the visitor through a gardenscape of artwork.

John flipped the brochure over and for a moment went completely still. A moment of stillness that was shattered when he began to laugh, laughter that went from a chuckle to full out roaring guffaw that had his eyes watering and Daniel banging on his back to keep him from choking.

Gaining some measure of control John was able to show Daniel the source of his hilarity. There on the back of the brochure, in crisp glossy colour was a pink and green stargate.

Camouflaged in a thick layer of concrete that was cracked and falling off in places John nevertheless recognized the elegant, perfect round circular structure that was an ancient stargate. Painted onto the concrete were the same symbols John had seen on the pictures Rodney had shown him of the SGC gate.

Thinking of Rodney John was suddenly hopeful. He could do this. With the stargate he could finally fulfill his need to bring the team together. The team Rodney had described as the other Sheppard's team but the one that would be his in this universe. It just felt like the right thing to do.

All he had to do was bring it home.

~*~

The irony of it all did not escape his attention. La Pozas was as surreal as his life had become. Aliens, floating cities, wormholes, technology that he could control with his mind, he didn't think it could get much more bizarre than that. Yet here he was wandering through the surrealistic concrete fantasies of a crazy Englishman looking for a portal to the stars.

The air was heavy and sweet with the fragrance of exotic blooms and the early morning mist gathered at their feet. The day promised to be as hot and steamy as one would expect from the Mexican rainforest.

A pair of concrete hands offered an unlikely greeting, columns rose from the greenery some so delicate they swayed in the breeze. John peered up into an open gazebo like structure that belonged in a Dr Seuss adventure; it was like being in a weird dream. Plant shaped columns covered in lichen, moss and ferns blended in with the encroaching forest so that sometimes he had a hard time telling where one ended and the other began. It didn't take long before they were hopelessly lost.

"We could just ask someone for directions," sighed Daniel in exasperation as he took off his glasses and wiped his face.

"We're not lost."

"John we've been at this for hours. The man at the hotel said the current owner lives on site. Why don't we go back and ask about the ring."

"That would just draw attention to it and we don't want that."

"Well, I'm calling a break," Daniel declared as he headed down to the edge of one of the ubiquitous waterfall fed pools.

"Way to go to keep a low profile," John grumbled as he nevertheless followed Daniel's example and began to strip down to his skivvies. The water was deep and an amazing blue that reminded John of the sky on a bright, clear day.

John dove in and swam underwater until his lungs began to burn and then after a few laps he closed his eyes and let himself float on his back, his arms and legs splayed wide. He immersed himself in the sound of the water falling and the feel of the warm sun.

He almost didn't recognize it; the light caressing touch of ancient technology that called to him. Turning around and keeping his eyes closed he stroked gently through the water following the feel of the tech. He opened his eyes when he bumped up against the rock face from which the water fell from the stream above.

"Start feeling around for anything unusual or unnatural," he instructed Daniel who had quietly come up behind him.

"John over here," Daniel called softly pointing out the faint outline of a door-sized arch.

"Good catch," John told him, his eyes widening in surprise as Daniel grinned and pressed on a stone that was protruding from the rock. The hidden doorway opened grudgingly with a grating sound.

"Lucky guess, I've kind of done this before," Daniel admitted.

Once inside a narrow antechamber opened into a spacious high-ceilinged room lined with wooden chests and steel boxes. John carefully lifted one of the lids, reached inside, and pulled out a small rectangular pad that could have been an ancient data pad or a portable game system. It lit up as soon as he touched it showing two blue dots one of which was moving around the screen like…oh, wow… "God, Daniel look at this, it's a people detector."

John concentrated and the view zoomed out showing the faint outline of the area immediately surrounding the pool each visitor represented by a small blue dot. Off to the side, along the edge of the screen was a single red pulsing circle.

"Guess what? I think I've found the gate."

~*~

Six months later John and Daniel are standing in front of a stargate. They were both in field gear and are breathless and a little sweaty. John looked at Daniel who had an identical grin on his face. This just would never get old.

"I'd give up coffee for a month," Daniel declared, "to have been able to see the look on Jack's face when he found out that an entire village followed Edward James from Peru to Mexico and hid the gate underneath a layer of concrete."

John shook his head. "Nah, seeing his face when he found that the stargate along with a shitload of ancient doo-dads had been sold and picked up two days before they got to Xilitla, now that would have been a moment to treasure."

John quickly sobered as the full weight of what they were about to do hit him. "You're sure about this," John asked quietly "you're sure we have the right gate address?"

"I'm sure," Daniel replied patiently.

"Because, you know what a screw up I am. This could be a big mistake."

"John, it'll be OK. Have a little more faith in yourself we all do."

"Yeah I guess that's what I'm afraid of."

John cringed just a little bit as a woman called him from across the room.

"Mr. Sheppard if this is a good time there are a few things I'd like to go over with you before you leave."

John visibly braced himself before turning around and with his most charming smile greeted the woman walking towards them. "Of course Dr Weir, give me thirty minutes to clean up."

John couldn't really complain. He had hired Dr Weir as CEO for the administration of the Phoenix Project and she had done an admirable job of handling the logistics of getting an expedition of this size and caliber off the ground. She took care of the political and administrative details while John focused on strategic planning and survival training and of course, he had final say in everything.

Next to recruiting Dr Weir, the best thing he had done was to hire Jeannie Miller. John wondered what Mer was going to say when he found out that John had persuaded his estranged sister to join him in his bizarre crusade to mount a peaceful, scientific expedition to the Pegasus galaxy.

Jeannie was scary smart like her brother and had the same bulldog determination. She had a talent for locating and recruiting the kind of people John was looking for. Some like Elizabeth Weir and Carson Beckett had already been approached by the IOA and SGC but had been wary of the militant mindset of the two organizations. Others like Miko Kusagni had simply been overlooked.

John's civilian led operation spoke to his or her humanitarian ideals and aspirations to explore for the benefit of everyone. Let the SGC search out and develop their weapons John's expedition was going to focus on medical advances and the reverse engineering of alien technology that would be carefully trickled down to the academic world and eventually to the public. John had not forgotten the people of Pegasus either who in his plans would be repaid for what they took in the form of education, medical care and whatever humanitarian aid they could offer.

This is not to say that John was the least bit cavalier about security. He and Ahmed had recruited and trained a core group of security officers who in turn made the safety and protection of the civilians their top priority.

In addition, John had insisted that everyone, those destined to hold the fort down at home and those who would venture forth through the stargate be trained to the best of their ability. Basic weapon and firearm training, self-defense training, self-awareness and a certain level of physical fitness was mandated for all personnel. John found that the more he expected from them the more was achieved in return.

His team was disciplined and well trained but definitely did not fit what John knew to be typical military expectations.

The IOA, of course, had eventually learned about the project, something John had not only expected but also planned for. They had not been happy about the direct competition to the SGC and the fact that Blacktail Industries had actually been able to buy a stargate really, really pissed them off, but possession being nine tenths of the law, they could do nothing about it.

Buried deep beneath the earth on the lower levels of an abandoned salt mine the stargate was even more jealousy guarded than the one at Cheyenne. Blacktail's people were loyal and even more closed mouthed than the SGC and kept their secrets even closer than their counterpart.

John knew that eventually the secret of the stargate network would get out but in this instance, he agreed with the IOA policy that the public wasn't ready for the truth yet.

Twelve hours later, John had gone over everything three or four times and was as ready as he ever would be.

"Dial the gate," John ordered in his command voice.

~*~

John stood on the outside balcony of the station control room. The view was spectacular. On one side there was a range of mountains the edge of which the complex extended under. Facing the compound there was the ocean. There was a large crescent shaped beach that led out to an area that was sheltered by a natural barrier reef. Beyond that and to the side he could see some of the best surfing conditions he had ever witnessed. The place reminded him of the best parts of earth, Australia, Hawaii, Fiji and California.

He smiled when he caught Sarah's scent and turned around with a tiny smile and eyes that he knew expressed what he couldn't with words. Though intellectually he knew it was crazy to keep up a relationship with a hallucination he had been reluctant to give her up. He missed her so much, his throat tightened up a little, and he knew no one looking at him right now would miss the brightness in his eyes.

"Hey."

She was instantly in his arms with her face buried in his neck and it felt so good, it felt so real.

"Oh, John I'm so happy for you. You finally made it

"Yeah, I made it."

She pulled back and locked her gaze with his.

"You're going to be alright. You're on the right side of the gate and finally where you belong."

She leaned into him and gave him a kiss. Soft, warm, chaste and he pulled her in tighter and deepened it, letting his emotions cascade forward until they were both breathless.

"Good bye John."

"So long Sarah."

He left her leaning against the balcony railing and when he turned around for another look, she was gone. With a sigh, he went to join his people in the command center.

"So, John, "Daniel greeted him with a smirk

Daniel had come forward to meet him while for some reason the rest hung back. Miko, who would not make eye contact with him, seemed a little flushed. Maybe she was coming down with something. He would have to have Carson check her out.

Bates was not afraid to look him straight in the eye but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he had done to deserve those pursed lips and disapproving glare. Carson, on the other hand, barely a step behind Daniel, could barely contain himself. With that big goofy grin John half expected him to start giggling at any moment.

"Daniel?"

"We didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"Excuse me?"

John looked towards the balcony and realized that they would have had a perfect view. He tried to imagine what it must have looked like to them as he kissed his hallucinatory fiancée.

"It means, ye git, that ye haven't introduced us to your girlfriend yet. Ye know, cute little redhead, nice bosom…ye alright lad?"

Carson had stepped forward and taken John's elbow to support him as he faltered.

"You could see her?"

"From where I stood sir, we could see everything," Bates told him.

Bates stepped forward, a suspicious scowl on his face. "I don't remember seeing any redhead among the personnel, and where is she now?"

John shook his head and sat down at the nearest console before he fell over. "That was my fiancée Sarah."

Daniel stepped forward a thoughtful look on his face. "You mean…"

"Yeah, she's the one that was killed in the chopper crash that ended my military career."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. Miko? Bates?"

"We're on it sir."

Thirty minutes later, all they could say with any certainty was that something had been on that balcony with John.

Much later after the sun had gone down and no less than three moons had appeared in the night sky; Daniel joined John on the same balcony.

"It's an amazing view."

"I can't argue with you there."

They had all given him some space and he appreciated it. They were good people. There had always been good people in his life; he just couldn't get past his pain enough to see that before now.

"So, not a figment of my overwrought imagination after all."

"I can understand why you never said anything."

"Yeah," snorted John "'I see dead people', might not have gone over well."

"Well, it might have gone over better than 'an alien entity that looks and sounds like my dead girlfriend told me I should go to a galaxy far, far away'."

John looked over at his friend and smirked.

"You can be really weird sometimes, you know that right?"

"Have you considered that Sarah might have been a manifestation of one of the Ancients?"

"An Ancient that looked just like Sarah? Yeah, I have to admit it has crossed my mind."

"It make sense to take on a form that you would accept maybe even expect given your frame of mind."

John sighed. "I can't decide whether to be pissed at being used or pleased at being special."

Daniel laughed and joined John on the railing.

"So what's the plan?"

"Nothing's changed. I'm where I belong. We're where we belong," John told him firmly.

"Get some rest John. I'll see you in the morning."

With a slap to his back, Daniel left John and went to find his assigned quarters.

John sighed and slid down until he was sitting against the glass walls. They would have to get some chairs up here, maybe a little table he thought idly.

That he belonged here in this time and place he had no doubts. For the first time in his life, it felt right, he felt right. He had reconnected with his humanity and if Sarah, he couldn't bear to think of her any other way, was correct he was finally on the right side of the gate.

He had been given a second chance and with the help of the people he had brought with him, he was hopeful that this time he would get it right.


End file.
